


Time to Heal, A

by spookyawards_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Arizona (X-Files), F/M, Novel, post-episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-09-29
Updated: 2003-09-29
Packaged: 2019-04-27 06:09:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 41,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14419296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyawards_archivist/pseuds/spookyawards_archivist
Summary: Dealing with his own emotions after Mulder's death, Skinner takes a vacation and meets a somewhat familiar agent.





	Time to Heal, A

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Spooky Awards](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Spooky_Awards), and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [SpookyAwards' collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/spookyawards/profile).

 

A Time to Heal

## A Time to Heal

### by Harrahgirl

**A TIME TO HEAL**

Type of Story: Skinner/Reyes Relationship-based 

Rating: PG-13 for adult situations 

Timeframe: This story takes place during the period immediately following the funeral of Fox Mulder in Dead/Alive, but before his exhumation and eventual resuscitation. 

Disclaimer: This story was a special request by the hostess of the eXit Forum. The characters of Walter Skinner, Monica Reyes, Dana Scully, John Doggett, and Fox Mulder are the property of 1013 and Fox Broadcasting. Feedback is welcome.) 

**CHAPTER ONE**

There is something comforting about the anonymity of a large metropolitan airport. It is so easy to get lost in the crowd, just become one among many. A meaningless name on a passenger manifest ... a face in the boarding area ... a body filling a seat on a large jetliner. To be just one of many. 

For Assistant Director Walter Skinner, that anonymity was just what he was seeking. A chance to be just an ordinary guy ... a face in the crowd. Not a man who had to make the life or death decisions that put the lives of his co-workers, subordinates and friends on the line. As he stood in the line waiting to board the plane, he took a curious kind of pleasure in the impersonal courtesy of the attendant who checked his boarding pass and stated "Enjoy your flight," in a tone of voice that indicated that to her, he meant no more than any other passenger. 

Skinner boarded the plane and settled into his first-class seat, buckling the seat belt and stretching his long legs out before him. Flying first class was a luxury that he felt he had earned after his years of service. He wasn't traveling on business ... this was a vacation and he intended to start it off right by traveling in comfort. 

Reaching into his attach, he pulled out the glossy brochure containing the brightly-colored images of his destination spot ... The Phoenician Resort in Arizona. Six days in the Southwest desert ... sunshine, golf, horseback riding, sightseeing ... pure relaxation ... something he felt he desperately needed ... and yet felt he had no right to enjoy. 

As the plane began to taxi down the runway, he looked out the window but his eyes failed to see the view as the plane took off and circled the picturesque Washington D.C. skyline, Instead he saw the inside of his office, himself sitting at his desk and the small, pale red-haired woman in black sitting opposite him. He replayed their conversation in his mind as the plane soared into the sky. 

"Are you sure you're ready to come back to work, Agent Scully?" 

"Perfectly sir," Special Agent Dana Scully replied, her blue eyes meeting his. "It's been two weeks since ..." her voice caught here and the blue eyes filled with tears. "Since his funeral, sir. I have to try to move on." 

"Look, if you need more time you have plenty of leave," Skinner had continued, his concern for her evident in the gentle tone of his voice. "Given all that's happened ... and your pregnancy ... I just don't want to see you take on any more stress." 

"I'm going to be needing that leave in a few more months, sir, when my baby is born," Scully answered. "And sitting at home isn't going to help me adjust to Mulder's loss any better ... or miss him any less." 

Skinner winced at the raw pain in Scully's voice "As long as you're sure ..." 

"I am, sir," Scully replied. "I need to try to get my life back to normal. To adjust before my baby comes." 

"It's just that I am going to be on leave myself next week," Skinner explained. "I would have preferred to be here during your first days back ... I know they're going to be difficult." 

"They would be difficult either way, sir," Scully told him with a small half-smile. 

Skinner sat quietly, thinking it over, "Look, why don't I postpone this trip?" he asked. "That way I'll be around ..." 

"Please don't, sir." Scully protested. "Agent Doggett will be here and you know he'll watch out for me. And you need some time away yourself. I know this hasn't been easy for you, either. I know you miss him, too." 

In the end, he knew Scully was right. Even though he felt guilty about it, Skinner also knew that he needed this time away. Maybe if he put some distance between himself and the things that had happened during the past weeks ... months ... maybe then the images would stop haunting his every waking and sleeping thought. 

With a sigh, he put the brochure away and leaned back in his seat, closed his eyes, and willed himself to relax. After all, it was going to be a long flight. 

It was a dark, cool night in the Oregon forest. Skinner stood alone, shining his light in the darkness, trying to locate his missing agent, "Agent Mulder!" he called out in the night. Hearing no reply he called again, "Agent Mulder!" 

All of a sudden, he heard a loud noise behind him and to his right. He whirled around in time to see the ground shudder and shake, then a bright light and, in the middle of that light ... a large object that rose into the night sky. An object that could only be identified as a spaceship that rose higher and higher, the bright light become brighter and all encompassing as the craft climbed. Then, in the blink of an eye, the light disappeared and the ship was gone. Walter Skinner was left standing in the middle of the dark, cold, empty forest ... alone. And with the sickening realization that Fox Mulder, the agent under his command, the man he was there to help protect, was gone with the spaceship ... 

... Skinner awoke with a start, sitting bolt upright and breathing heavily. It took him a moment to adjust to his surroundings ... the deep leather seat in the first-class cabin of the jumbo jet. A flight attendant appeared at his side almost instantly. "Are you all right, sir?" 

Skinner willed his breathing to return to normal and looked up into her concerned face, "Yeah ... guess I dozed off and forgot where I was when I woke up." 

The attendant's look of concern vanished and was replaced by her best professional smile, "Can I get you anything, sir?" 

"Yes, you can. I'd like a Scotch on the rocks, please," Skinner replied, giving her a false 'see, I'm all right' smile. 

As the attendant turned to go get the drink, Skinner sighed and settled back into his seat. He had hoped that the dreams wouldn't follow him on this trip. It looked like those hopes were about to be dashed. 

**CHAPTER TWO**

"Will you be dining alone, sir?" 

The hostess at the entrance to the Terrace Dining Room asked the question as Skinner approached. Ruefully, he nodded in agreement and followed her to a table that overlooked the softly lit croquet lawn. He slipped into his chair and accepted the menu that she passed to him with an impersonal, "Your server will be with you shortly ... I hope you will enjoy your meal." 

Skinner looked about the terrace, taking in the view and idly glancing at the tables. And then he noticed ... on the other side of the room, at a table near the railing overlooking one of the pools. There, sitting alone, an attractive, dark-haired woman who had just laid down her menu and was looking out over the railing. It took him a moment but then he remembered her name ... Reyes. Monica Reyes. 

He couldn't believe it. Special Agent Monica Reyes ... a friend of John Doggett's and one of those who had been a part of the team that had found Fox Mulder. How was it possible that when he had traveled thousands of miles across the country to a place that he hoped would help him forget those images, he would run into someone who by her very presence would remind him of all that had happened. 

As though she sensed that someone's eyes were on her, Monica turned from contemplating the view of the pool and looked in his direction. He could tell that she recognized him by the way her dark eyes widened and the sudden "O" shape her mouth made. There was no getting away for Skinner now. 

A gentleman to the core, Skinner knew what was expected of him. He stood up from his place at the table and walked across the room to where Monica sat. He quickly arranged a conventional smile of greeting upon his features, "It's Agent Reyes, isn't it?" 

Monica looked up at him, a smile on her own face as she extended her hand. The difference was that her smile extended into her eyes, while his did not. "Yes, Monica Reyes. I'm surprised you remembered my name, sir," she replied. "It is Assistant Director Skinner, right?" 

Skinner took her hand in a conventional handshake, and he was surprised at the warmth and firmness of her handclasp, "Yes, Agent Reyes," he answered. "I thought I'd stop by and say hello." 

"I'm glad that you did, sir." Monica told him. "Are you here on business?" 

"No, I took a few days leave," Skinner replied, "And you?" 

"The same," Monica answered. "Every year I let it build up until I hit that 'use or lose' stage. And after the last few weeks I needed to get away for awhile." 

At that moment, the server approached, "Are you ready to ... oh, I'm sorry," he paused, slightly embarrassed. "Will the gentleman be joining you, ma'am?" 

"Oh, I'm sure he has a companion ..." Monica began. 

"Actually, I'm alone," Skinner spoke up impulsively. "Now why did I say that," he thought to himself. 

"In that case, sir, if you'd care to join me," Monica indicated the chair opposite her. 

Skinner knew what the expected answer was and he gave it, "Thank you, Agent Reyes. I'd enjoy that," and he sat down in the chair opposite her. 

"Would either of you care for a cocktail?" the server asked. 

"A Cosmopolitan for me, please," Monica replied. 

"Glenlevit on the rocks," Skinner answered. The server left a menu behind for Skinner and disappeared to get their drinks. Skinner opened up his menu and glanced at it, quickly deciding what he wanted. Closing the menu, he laid it aside and looked back across the table at his dinner companion. Reyes was watching him speculatively, a strange half-smile on her lips. "You're already decided?" she questioned. 

"I've learned to make decisions quickly," Skinner replied. 

"Ah, that is a trait that has probably been helpful for you in your work," Reyes observed. 

"Yes, to some degree," Skinner said thoughtfully. "As you have probably already learned, Agent Reyes, an inability to make quick decisions can be deadly in our job." 

Reyes inclined her head in a nod as the server approached with their drinks and set them before them. "Are you ready to order?" he inquired. 

Skinner indicated Reyes, who quickly placed her order, "I would like the Grilled Tomato Gazpacho, followed by the Grilled Colorado Lamb, rare please." 

"I'll have the Caesar Salad and the Grilled Prime New York Steak, rare," Skinner followed. 

"Would you care for a bottle of wine with your meal?" the server asked. 

Skinner glanced at Reyes, who nodded assent. He picked up the wine list and scanned it quickly, "We'll have a bottle of the Chateau Haut Medouc Sainte-Croix Du Mont, '96," he ordered. 

The server picked up the menus and disappeared quickly. Reyes smiled across the table, "Wow! I'm impressed." 

"By?" Skinner asked. 

"You made a decision on the wine pretty quickly, too," she commented. "Is that because you know your wines ... or was that another example of your speed-decision-making skills?" 

Skinner found himself smiling back, "Actually, I learned to appreciate good wine years ago. I'm not a connoisseur, but I do know the difference between red, white and blush wines." He picked up his drink and sipped at it. "So Agent Reyes, you're on leave. What made you decide to come here?" 

"I've been here before," Reyes answered. "It's a wonderful place to come when you want to get away from everything. You?" 

"A friend of mine recommended it," Skinner replied. "Said the same thing you did ... it's a great place to go to get away from it all. He said the golf course here is fantastic." 

"I guess it is, it's pretty popular," Reyes replied, after sipping her drink. "But I've never been much for golf." 

"Then what do you do here?" Skinner asked. "Visit the spa and shop, I suppose." 

"Now that assumption is borderline sexist," Reyes replied with a grin. "And yes, I do spend a little time at the spa here and I do shop ... but I don't shop here. I prefer to go into Scottsdale or better still go up into Sedona. And there are some wonderful places on the Indian reservations. Lucia's is one of my favorites ... a combination Mexican/Indian gift shop and the best Mexican food this side of the border." 

"Sounds good ... at least the Mexican food part of it," Skinner replied as he finished his drink. 

"If you'd like, I can take you there, sir," Reyes replied impulsively. Then she paused as though realizing whom she was speaking to. "That is ... I mean ..." 

Skinner understood; she was a field agent, he was an assistant director at the national headquarters. She was trying to be friendly but it could so easily be taken as putting herself forward, "Relax, Agent Reyes," he said with a half smile. "I appreciate the offer. And I just might take you up on it." 

Reyes smiled at him with relief as the server approached them with their first courses. Skinner dug into his salad as she spooned her gazpacho. He took the opportunity to observe her more closely, the high forehead and cheekbones, the almost angular bone-structure of her jawline, softened somewhat by the loosely flowing dark hair. She had taken him at his words and WAS relaxed, he could tell by the posture of her body, not stiff but loose and comfortable. He liked seeing that; liked seeing that he had put her at her ease. And suddenly he found himself wanting to know more about her. 

"You know, Agent Reyes, we went through quite a bit together recently, but it occurs to me that I don't know anything about you," he told her. 

"There's not really that much to tell, sir," Reyes answered. 

"I find that difficult to believe," Skinner said with a raised eyebrow. "For starters, I remember Agent Doggett said that you and he had worked together." 

Reyes took a deep breath and he saw look of ineffable sadness come into her eyes. "Is something wrong, Agent Reyes?" he asked. 

Reyes looked down at her plate for a moment and then looked back up at him, her eyes meeting his frankly. "Did John ... Agent Doggett ... happen to mention the case we worked on?" she asked. 

Skinner noted her unconscious use of Doggett's first name as well as the sad look in her eyes. "No, he didn't," he replied. "Would you care to tell me." 

Reyes paused for a moment as if to gather her thoughts, "Were you aware that Agent Doggett had a son?" she asked. 

"Yes, I believe I saw something about that in the personnel file," Skinner replied. "I read that he died a few years ago ... it's very sad to lose a child." 

"There's more to it than that sir," Reyes said quietly. "Agent Doggett's son was kidnapped. Three days later, he was found murdered." 

Skinner felt sickened at her words. He had never had a child of his own ... that was one of the many things he and Sharon had missed out on ... but he knew that to lose a child was the most horrible thing a parent could endure. And to lose a child in that way ... "I'm sorry, Agent Reyes," he spoke softly. "I didn't know. Did Agent Doggett share that with you?" 

Once again, Reyes looked down at the table. When she looked back up, although her face was calm, her eyes were bright with tears. "I was with the New York Bureau office at the time and was the agent assigned to the case," she told him, trying to keep her voice steady. "Agent Doggett was with the NYPD then ... missing persons ... and he worked right along with us. I was there the day we found his son's body ... and was there when he saw him," her voice cracked on the last few words. 

Skinner felt a sudden rush of compassion for both the agent back in Washington that he knew so well and the young woman sitting across from him who had obviously taken the case to heart. Without thinking, he reached out across the table and laid his hand over hers, "That must have been very hard for you ... Monica," he told her gently, his voice filled with sincerity. "I can't begin to imagine what it was like." 

Reyes blinked back the tears and her fingers moved in his, returning his warm clasp. "It was ... heartbreaking," she answered. "I know we're supposed to be professional and all, but when I saw what it did to John ... the fear and hope he went through those three days while we searched. And then when we found Luke ... what it did to him ..." her voice trailed off as she fought back the tears. Skinner watched her silently for a moment, allowing her to regain her composure. When she spoke again her voice, although subdued, was steady, "Anyway, that's how we met. And we've stayed in touch since then." 

At that moment, the server came back with their entrees. The time it took to remove the appetizer plates, place the entrees, and pour the wine gave both Skinner and Reyes the opportunity to back away mentally from the topic of Doggett and his son. When the server left, Reyes was once again completely calm and composed, her habitual friendly half-smile back on her face. "Looks good, doesn't it sir?" she commented as she began to slice into her lamb. 

Skinner popped a piece of his steak into his mouth, chewed thoughtfully, grinned and swallowed, "I don't know about yours, but mine is excellent." 

As they ate they continued to chat. With the topic of Doggett and his son finished, Reyes filled him in on her background: her adoption and upbringing in Mexico, her college days, introduction to the FBI in New York and more lately her field assignment in New Orleans. "I'm a bit of a black sheep, down there," she commented ruefully. 

"Just why is that?" Skinner asked her, sincerely interested. 

"Well, as I told Agent Scully, I'm very open to the different possibilities," Reyes replied. "I do believe that there are forces at work in this world that we do not understand. And I don't believe that we are alone in the universe. That doesn't sit too well with much of the management in New Orleans. I envy Agents Doggett and Scully, getting the opportunity to work on the X-Files cases. I'd give a lot for that opportunity." 

"It's too bad there isn't an opening, you would be a welcome addition," Skinner told her, and he meant it. "I had the chance to see you at work in the field ... you are a very competent agent. And your enthusiasm and understanding of the paranormal would make you an ideal fit in that unit. I would be proud to have you on the team, if it were possible." 

Reyes blushed and smiled, "Thank you, sir. I'll take that as a compliment." 

Over coffee, Reyes spoke up, "Sir, I've talked your ear off this evening. I hope I haven't bored you." 

Skinner smiled at her, "Not at all, Agent Reyes, I've enjoyed it," he assured her. And in fact, he had. It had been a long time since he had shared a companionable meal with an attractive woman, and Reyes had made him forget for a few hours the sadness and sense of failure that had been haunting him for weeks now. "You have been a wonderful dinner companion." 

"Still, I feel like I've monopolized the conversation here, and you've been very kind to listen to me," Reyes replied. "I should have warned you that once I start talking I'm hard to shut up" 

"Really, Agent Reyes, it's all right ...in fact ..." he began, but she interrupted. 

"I wish there was something I could do to ...oh, sorry sir," she halted abruptly as she realized that she had cut him off. "You were saying ..." 

"I was saying that I enjoyed our dinner so much that I was wondering if you'd care to have lunch with me tomorrow," Skinner continued. "I have a golf game in the morning, but I'll be free all afternoon. I would very much like to see that place you were talking about earlier ..." 

"Lucia's?" Reyes asked, "I'd love to take you out there, sir. I'd really enjoy it." 

"I'll be free about 12:30," Skinner continued. "Why don't we plan to meet then. Oh ... and Agent Reyes ..." 

"Yes sir?" she questioned. 

"Since we're going to be spending some time together tomorrow, why don't you drop the 'sir," he asked. "We're both on vacation here ... my name is Walter." 

Reyes face lit up with one of the most beautiful smiles he had ever seen. It seemed to radiate from somewhere deep inside her ... making him actually feel her smile. "You're right ... Walter. As long as you call me Monica." 

"You've got a deal," he said as he rose from the table. "Let me walk you back to your room ... Monica." 

**CHAPTER THREE**

"Over here!" 

Skinner heard John Doggett's voice call out from a distance. Then he saw Doggett's flashlight, signaling his location in the darkness. Skinner took off quickly and his search team followed. 

As he closed the distance between them, he saw Doggett kneeling beside a figure on the ground and he felt a sick tightening in his stomach. "Don't let this be what I think it is," he thought to himself as he came in closer. 

Doggett looked up at him as he approached, his blue eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and anger, "It's Mulder, sir," Doggett said softly. "We're too late!" 

Doggett stepped back to allow Skinner his privacy at this moment. Skinner knelt beside the naked, huddled body and gently turned it over, already knowing what he would find yet needing to see before he could believe it. The sight of the white, scarred, tortured face confirmed his worst fears. It was Mulder ... dead. 

He looked down at the familiar features wordlessly for a moment, trying to process the conflicting emotions that raged within him. Shock ... anger ... grief ... and above all guilt. "It's my fault," he thought to himself, "I let you down, Mulder. I lost you that night. If I hadn't ..." 

His thoughts were interrupted as he felt a hand press his shoulder firmly. He looked up at Doggett's face and read the sympathy in the man's eyes. "I'm sorry, sir," Doggett spoke quietly. "I hoped it wouldn't turn out this way." 

Skinner nodded, closing his eyes to blink back the sudden tears he felt stinging them. He rose to his feet slowly, suddenly feeling very old. "We all hoped, Agent Doggett," he murmured. 

The men were silent for a moment, both looking down at the naked, battered body of Fox Mulder on the ground. Then Doggett spoke again, "Agent Scully, sir! Someone needs to tell her ..." 

Skinner knew that the duty would be his, and tried to prepared for what would be one of the most difficult tasks of his life ... 

. . . . . . . He shot up in his bed and glanced around wildly. Even in the darkness he could tell he wasn't in his familiar bedroom. Where ... what ... then he remembered. Vacation. The resort. "Just a dream," he thought. "Just like all the others ...a memory which has become a nightmare." He glanced at the clock on the nightstand, which registered 3 a.m. With a long sigh, he laid back down amongst the soft pillows and the now-wrinkled sheets to try to get more sleep ... hopefully without the dreams. **CHAPTER FOUR**

Skinner glanced at his watch as he stood in the lobby. 12:25 ... five minutes early. He had arranged to meet Reyes in the lobby and from there they would head out to Lucia's. He found himself curiously eager to see her again. He had enjoyed his dinner with her the previous night; those hours suddenly seemed very precious since during that time he had not thought about the situation he had left behind in Washington. Those thoughts and memories haunted him in his sleep and he found them still there when he awakened. Even on the golf course this morning they were there, always in the back of his mind, ready to pounce. He supposed it was foolish to expect that a mere change of scene would cause them to disappear; still he had hoped ... but so far the only time he was free of them had been that dinner with Monica Reyes. 

The elevator doors opened and he saw her. For a few moments he was free to observe her without being seen, and the sight made him smile. She certainly did not look anything like an FBI agent. Dressed in a brightly colored cotton skirt, pale pink peasant shirt, with sandals on her feet, hair tumbling to her shoulders and carrying a straw bag, sunglasses and straw hat, Monica Reyes could have been any tourist, ready for an afternoon of sightseeing. He saw her eyes dart searchingly about, and then she spotted him and waved, flashing him a smile of greeting. A moment later, she was at his side, "Hi there," she exclaimed. "I hope I'm not late." 

"No, I was actually a few minutes early," Skinner reassured her. An old habit from my days in the Marines." 

Reyes was quiet and he noticed that she was looking him up and down rather appraisingly. "Is there anything wrong?" he asked. 

Reyes shook her head, smiling. "Nothing's wrong," she replied. "It's just that I don't think I've ever seen you dressed this casually before. I like it." 

Skinner realized that just she was right ... she had never seen him out of what he thought of as his "FBI Uniform" ... suit, dress shirt, tie and dress shoes. Today he was wearing jeans, short-sleeved T-shirt and Nikes ... a definite difference. "It's funny, " he commented, "I was thinking the same thing when I saw you." 

"Well, we are on vacation, after all!" Reyes exclaimed. "But I do have one suggestion, if you don't mind ..." 

"What's that?" 

"The afternoon sun is awfully strong," Reyes said with some concern. "I'd hate to see you get a sunburn ..." 

"I'm wearing sunscreen," Skinner interrupted. "And my skin is pretty tough, anyway." 

"I was thinking of the top of your head," Reyes continued, blushing slightly. "It wouldn't take long for it to burn, even with sunscreen." 

Skinner realized that was something he hadn't thought of. "You know, you're right," he agreed. "Unfortunately, I didn't bring any kind of a hat with me ..." 

"I thought you might say that," Reyes said as she reached into her large straw bag and pulled out a white paper bag. "I stopped in the gift shop and picked this up for you. I hope you don't mind." 

Skinner accepted the bag, reached in and pulled out a cap with the Phoenix Suns logo. He found that he was oddly touched by her thoughtfulness and consideration ... not many women would have taken the trouble. He reached up and put the hat on his head, "Well, how do I look?" he asked with a grin. 

Reyes grinned right back, "You look mahh-vel-ous," she drawled out. "Are you ready to go, then?" 

"Sure, Monica," he replied, using her name for the first time since the previous night. "Lead me on to Lucia's." 

Although under ordinary circumstances Skinner would have taken the wheel, it made more sense for Reyes to drive since she knew exactly where they were going. As they headed west on Interstate 10, Skinner found himself mesmerized by the beauty of the western desert. The sun shining in a cloudless sky beat down on the various browns and reds, giving them a warm hue that was offset by the occasional deep yellows of brush or green of cactus and palms. It almost seemed wrong to be traveling in an ultra-modern convertible ... he felt that they should be riding horses or crossing the desert in a covered wagon. He felt that if he looked very closely he would be able to see the travelers ... Indians and settlers ... who had taken this journey before him. 

Skinner realized suddenly that quite a bit of time had passed since he had spoken a word to Reyes. He turned and saw her concentrating on the road, but she had her habitual half-smile on her face. "This is impressive scenery," he commented, trying to make conversation. 

Reyes glanced over at him, "Yes, it is," she replied "Whenever I drive out here, I keep thinking about all those history classes I took where we talked about the Great West. It's amazing to think that we're traveling in an hour a route that it took almost a week for covered wagons to make." 

"You're kidding!" Skinner exclaimed, regarding her with new eyes, "I was just thinking the same thing. All the stories I read about the early settlers ... the cowboys, and the Indian battles." 

"I suppose anybody with any imagination or intuition thinks about that," Reyes said enthusiastically. "Whenever I drive out here, it's like I can feel the spirits of the people who have been here before us. I'd swear if I looked off to the right, I could see a wagon train heading out into the mountains. Or off to the left I can almost see a Navajo hunting party mounted on their ponies, chasing down a herd of buffalo." 

Skinner was astonished to find that her thoughts had mirrored his. "You amaze me, Monica." 

"Really, how so?" Reyes enquired. 

"I know this may sound like I'm stereotyping, but most women I know would have just said it's great scenery," Skinner replied. 

Reyes laughed and Skinner noted that her laugh had an almost throaty musical tone to it, curiously warming to his spirit. "I'll take that as a compliment ... Walter," she replied, using his name for the first time that day. "Maybe it's because of my background and training, or maybe it's just my nature. But while the scenery is beautiful, it's also very much alive. So much has happened here, so many people have traveled and lived and died here that it's full of their spirit and their essence. At least, it is to me." 

"So anyway, tell me about this place we're going ... Lucia's," Skinner prompted. 

"Lucia Valesquez is a Mexican-American," Reyes explained. "Her parents, Jorge and Estrelita Delgado settled here during the Depression and they opened up a small Mexican restaurant across the highway from the Navajo reservation. The restaurant itself was popular with tourists traveling west, but they always seemed disappointed that there was no gift shop. So after five years, the Delgados built on an addition for Mexican gifts ... clothing, blankets, pottery and artifacts." 

"You mentioned that there were Indian gifts as well," Skinner continued. 

"I was coming to that," Reyes answered. "Members of the Navajo reservation's tribal council approached the Delgados to see if they would be interested in selling some of the jewelry, clothing and other gift items that the tribe could produce. The Delgados figured they'd give it a try, and so they've been selling Navajo gift items ever since. Lucia and her family have carried on the tradition and it remains a very popular place where you can get an authentic Mexican meal and pick up some wonderful bargains. We should be coming up on it very soon now." 

Skinner settled back in his seat but instead of watching the road now, he continued to watch Reyes. My God, she really is a beautiful woman, he thought to himself. As he watched her, with the wind whipping stray stands of hair out from under her hat, he began to feel the stirrings of a powerful attraction for her. Steady there, he thought to himself. This is an agent ... a co-worker ... and she's also a hell of a lot younger than you. 

Suddenly, he saw Reyes eyes widen and a happy smile cross her face, "Look just ahead," she cried, gesturing with one hand. "The reservation's on the left of the highway, Lucia's is on the right." 

Skinner looked ahead and saw what she was talking about. To the left hand side of the road was what appeared to be a huge mobile home park and several large, whitewashed buildings. To the right were two large wooden frame structures side-by-side with a large sign that read, "Lucia's Restaurant and Trading Post." 

Reyes easily maneuvered the car off the road and into an available parking space. As she removed her sunglasses and reached for her straw bag, Skinner got out of the car and walked to her side, opening the door for her. With the instincts of a gentleman, he held out his hand to help her out of the low-slung vehicle. She looked up at him, her eyes showing a quick flicker of surprise. Then without hesitation, she slipped her hand into his. 

As their hands met, it seemed that something passed between them, some kind of connection. At the warmth of her hand, Skinner felt the attraction that he had been musing about earlier become something stronger ... something that he could only describe as desire. Reyes seemed to feel it too, her eyes meeting his frankly and with knowledge and a sense of wonder shining in them. They stayed like that for a moment, just looking at each other, the tall man standing outside the car and the young woman sitting inside. Then, as if to clear his head, Skinner gave a gentle tug. 

Reyes responded to the tug and eased herself up out of her car seat gracefully, pausing to give Skinner a warm smile. "Well, we made it in one piece," she told him. 

Skinner released her hand and gave the compound a quick look-around, noting the number of cars in the yard/parking area. "Looks pretty popular," he commented. "Quite a few cars here." 

"It is popular," Reyes replied as she slung her bag over her shoulder. "Let's go inside. I don't know about you, but I'm dying of thirst ... and I'm starved!" Skinner followed her into the first building. From the outside it was rather nondescript, a wooden frame building but inside he found it decorated in the style of a Mexican cantina. Chicano music was playing from a jukebox and the most heavenly aromas were wafting through the place. 

"Mo-ni-ca, you're back," Skinner heard the feminine voice behind him and turned to see a matronly looking woman, her dark hair streaked with gray approaching them, her arms outstretched. "Oh, it's so good to see you here again," she exclaimed as she took Reyes into a warm, motherly embrace. 

"You look great, Lucia," Reyes replied, hugging the woman right back with a beaming smile. They broke the embrace and stood at arms length, regarding each other "Honestly, you just never seem to age, Lucia." Reyes said wonderingly, "I wish I knew your secret." 

"Family ... prayer ... and lots of hard work," Lucia replied. "That's the only secret I know, querida." Lucia suddenly became aware of Skinner standing slightly off to the side, where he had withdrawn so he wouldn't interrupt what appeared to be a reunion between the two women. "I'm so sorry, I was so excited to see Monica. Are you here with her?" 

"Yes, I am," Skinner replied. 

"Lucia, this is Assistant Director Walter Skinner," Reyes introduced. "He works for the FBI in Washington. Walter, this is Lucia Valesquez, the owner and proprietor of this establishment. 

Skinner automatically held out his hand, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Valesquez." 

Lucia clasped his hand effusively in both of her own, "Oh, you call me Lucia," she said warmly. "If you are here with Monica, you should not stand on ceremony with me." She turned back to Reyes, beaming happily, "Oh, I like your man, Monica. He is a fine one." 

Skinner felt himself blush as he realized what Lucia was thinking ... that he was here as Reyes "man." He looked down for a moment, then looked back up and caught her eye. 

Reyes didn't appear embarrassed in the least, however as she replied, "It's not what you're thinking, Lucia. Walter and I worked on a case recently and we just happened to be here at the same time." 

"Agent Reyes was kind enough to offer to bring me out here," Skinner added. "She was very enthusiastic about the shopping and the Mexican food. It's one of my favorites and I must say it smells wonderful!" 

If Lucia was embarrassed at all she didn't show it, but continued to beam happily at both of them. "If you like Mexican and Navajo souvenirs, you won't find better shopping than here," she told him. "And I won't lie ... you won't get any better Mexican food than you get here, isn't that right Monica?" 

"Absolutely, Lucia!" Reyes replied. 

"I'll tell you what, why don't you go over and check out what we have in the store while I get your lunch ready," Lucia suggested. "I'll put together a Mexican feast that you will always remember! I'll have Enrique come and get you when it's ready, okay?" 

"That sounds great, Lucia," Reyes answered. "Come on Walter, let's go check out the shop. I can't wait to see the new things she's got in there!" 

Skinner followed Reyes through the courtyard area that separated the two buildings and into the large shop. Almost immediately, an older, somewhat stout dark-haired man came over to them with a pleasant smile, "Hey there, Monica. Good to see you again!" 

Reyes smiled and quickly hugged the man, "Hey, Alberto it's good to see you too," she replied, stepping back. "Walter, this is Alberto Valesquez, Lucia's husband. Alberto, this is Walter Skinner, a friend of mine." 

Valesquez held out his hand, "Welcome to our place, Mr. Skinner," he spoke the greeting with warmth and enthusiasm. 

Skinner shook the offered hand, noting the roughness of the skin, which had been hardened by years of work, "Thank you, Mr. Valesquez," he replied. "Your shop looks fascinating." 

"Well, I don't know about fascinating but I'm sure you will find something that will catch your eye," Valesquez replied as he released Skinner's hand. "Monica, does Lucia know you're here?" 

"We stopped in the restaurant first," Reyes answered. "She told us to come in and shop around while she got lunch ready. But Alberto, I'm dying of thirst right now and I would kill for a Coke!" 

"Let me take care of that right away," Valesquez turned and went back behind the counter, where he reached into a large cooler and pulled out a can of Coke. He came back around and handed the can to Reyes. "There you are ... ice cold!" 

Reyes popped the top off the can and raised it to her lips, taking a long swallow. "Thanks, Alberto, that hits the spot," she said with real gratitude. 

"Listen, take a look around, take your time and anything that you select give to me and I'll hold it for you until after lunch," Valesquez told them. "I have to look after some of the other customers, but I'll talk to you before you leave, Monica. Again, good to meet you, Mr. Skinner." 

Skinner nodded as Valesquez turned to look after the other guests. He watched Reyes take another pull at the Coke can and then she turned to him and held out the can, "Would you care for some, Walter?" she asked. 

Skinner's mouth was very dry and the thought of that ice-cold liquid was irresistible. Unthinkingly, he accepted the can and raised it to his lips, taking a long swallow. As he did so, he was suddenly powerfully aware that his lips were resting on the same place as Monica Reyes' had done a moment before. It seemed as if in addition to the sweetness of the drink, he could actually taste a little of her essence, making this simple act of sharing a can of soda an amazingly intimate experience. 

As he lowered the can and held it back out to her, his eyes met hers and again he thought he saw a flicker of knowledge there, as if she had been reading his thoughts. As she took the can from his hand, her fingers lightly brushed his and once again he felt that spark, that sense of desire, shoot through him. He released the can into her hand and managed to say, "Thank you, Monica. That was just what I needed." 

Reyes eyes never left his as she raised the can to her mouth, placing her lips where his had been. She drank deeply, then lowered the can and spoke softly, "Me too, Walter." 

They stood for a moment, just looking at each other, then Reyes broke the spell. "So, what do you say we take a look around and see if there's anything that catches your eye?" 

The next half hour went by very quickly. The number of things he saw in the shop fascinated Skinner: Mexican pottery, serapes, blankets and art objects. Straw bags and hats. And then there were the Indian items. Of course there was the requisite bead and feather work. But there was also some wonderful pottery, beautiful leather wallets and boots, as well as leather belts with gold, silver and turquoise buckles. And the jewelry ... so much for men and women ... finely crafted of gold, copper and silver, some with turquoise and onyx in the design, others relying solely on the beauty of the metal and the craftwork. A wide brown leather belt ornamented with a gold and turquoise buckle and a gold bracelet/watchband with exquisite copper and turquoise ornamentation especially captured Skinner's eye. 

Noticing that Skinner was lingering, Alberto wandered over "Is there anything you would like to take a closer look at?" 

"Yes, the belt and that watchband there," Skinner replied, pointing to both. Alberto reached into the jewelry case and pulled out both items, laying them down on the counter. "These are some of our finest pieces," he commented. "Everything is handcrafted, so no two items are exactly alike." 

Skinner held up the belt first, giving it a thorough examination. As he did so, he felt Reyes come up beside him. "It looks like you've found something you like," she said. 

"Yes, I really think I'm going to buy this belt," Skinner replied, showing it to her. "It's an attractive piece and the price is very reasonable." 

"The prices here are always reasonable," Reyes responded as she closely surveyed the belt. "I like this, Walter. It would look great with your jeans or with other casual pants." 

Skinner handed the belt to Alberto, "I will take this, Mr. Valesquez." 

In the meantime, Reyes had picked up the watchband and was looking it over carefully. "This is absolutely beautiful," she remarked. 

"I haven't made up my mind about the watchband, yet." Skinner told her. "I'm not really sure that it's 'me,' if you know what I mean." 

Reyes opened her mouth to start to say something when Alberto interrupted her "Monica, there's Enrique waving to you. I think Lucia is ready for both of you." 

Reyes handed the watchband to Alberto, "Alberto, can you put that aside until after lunch. And hold on to the stuff we've already picked out ... we'll come back and pay for it afterwards." 

"Sure Monica," he told her as he took the watchband and put it in a corner of the jewelry case. "You'd better get going now. Hope you both have an appetite." 

"Oh, we do!" Reyes replied, impulsively grabbing Skinner's hand. "Come on Walter, let's go get lunch." 

Moments later, Skinner and Reyes were seated at a small table in the corner of the restaurant. When they took their places, a basket of chips and a large bowl of homemade salsa was already placed on the table waiting for them, along with a huge, frosty pitcher of light colored beer and two mugs. "It's Coors beer," Reyes explained. "You can get it in Washington, too. It goes wonderfully with Mexican food." 

Moments later, Lucia and her son, Enrique appeared bearing two trays loaded down with dishes. "Hey, you see I kept my word," Lucia told them as she unloaded plates from the trays. "I've brought you some of everything so you can try." 

"Wait a minute," Skinner began to protest, "This is way too much for the two of us." 

"Speak for yourself, Walter," Reyes teased "Besides, Lucia is just following Mexican custom ... they eat their main meal in the afternoon ... it's called comida ... and then just have a light supper in the evening. It's actually healthier for you." 

"That's right, Monica," Lucia beamed as she set the last plate down on the table. "You eat hearty now, Mr. Skinner. And you eat light tonight ... you sleep better that way. Now enjoy ... and call me if you need anything else." 

Skinner surveyed the array of dishes in front of him, giving off aromas that made his mouth water. There were the turnovers called empanadas, filled with beef. Chicken and cheese enchiladas. Crunchy beef tacos. Sizzling steak fajitas with assorted condiments. Pork tamales smothered in a spicy chili sauce. Refried beans and Mexican rice. Two salads, one of garbanzo beans and another made with oranges and onions. As Lucia had promised, truly a Mexican feast! 

He noticed that Reyes was already digging in and had piled her plate high with an assortment of delicacies. So he decided to follow her lead and quickly did the same. It had been a long time since breakfast and there was no question that he was feeling the pangs of hunger. 

Between the two of them, after 30 minutes Skinner and Reyes had managed to devour most of what Lucia had placed before them. Skinner was surprised at Reyes capacity as she took seconds (and sometimes thirds) of everything on the table. "I don't get it," he marveled as she polished off the last of her salad and drank off the last of her beer. "You are so slim ... where do you put it all?" 

Reyes laughed and again he found himself entranced at the sound of her laughter. "I think I have a super-fast metabolism," she replied. "Plus I keep pretty active. I run ... I work out ... even on vacation I move around a lot. So I burn off a lot of calories. Besides, you're no slouch either," she teased. "You ate just as much as I did ... and you did last night too. And from what I can see, your body doesn't show any excess poundage." 

Skinner permitted himself to feel a touch of pride at her words. At his age, it was great to be complimented on his body, and he worked hard at staying fit. "Same thing as you, I guess," he answered. "Workouts at the gym, running, and when I start to put on any weight I cut back." 

Enrique reappeared and began to clear away the dishes on the table. "Where's Lucia?" Reyes asked. 

"She'll be out in a minute with some coffee and dessert," Enrique replied. 

"The coffee sounds great, but I don't think I can manage dessert," Skinner groaned. 

"Oh, I think you can manage this," Lucia answered as she came up with yet another tray. On it were coffee cups, a small coffeepot, plates, spoons and a large, golden-crusted ball on a plate with a small bowl of golden sauce next to it. 

Reyes clapped her hands at the sight like a little girl, "Lucia, you remembered!" 

"Now how could I forget your favorite dessert," Lucia chided as she set everything down on the table. "I knew that you would be wanting this." 

"What is it?" Skinner asked as Lucia set a plate and a spoon in front of him. 

"It's Mexican fried ice cream," Reyes exclaimed with delight as Lucia placed the plate with the ball in front of her. "Oh Lucia, thank you so much!" 

Reyes began to cut into the golden ball as Lucia left. "How can you fry ice cream?" Skinner asked. 

"You roll it in a mixture of cornflake crumbs, flour and sugar, then chill it until it gets very hard," Reyes explained as she divided the ball in two, putting half on his plate and half on hers. "Then you deep-fry it for one minute. You serve it hot with hot caramel sauce. It's absolutely fantastic!" 

She ladled caramel sauce on his portion and passed the plate over to him. He took a spoonful and found that she was right, it was fantastic! The sensation of hot and cold at once, and the sweet flavors of the ice cream and caramel were a perfect finish to the hot, spicy meal. 

"Good, huh?" she prompted. 

"Good," he replied. 

Reyes beamed as she devoured her portion. He thought how young she looked as she sat there, spooning ice cream into her mouth. Young and beautiful and vibrant and alive. He wasn't even aware that he was smiling fondly as he watched her. 

As Reyes finished her last spoonful, she caught him watching her, "What?" she asked, "What is it?" 

"I was just thinking," Skinner said quietly. "I was thinking of how lovely you look." 

He couldn't believe what he was seeing ... she was actually blushing. He saw her bite her lip as she laid her spoon down and pushed her plate aside. When she spoke, her voice was pitched low, "I ... thank you, Walter. It's been a long time since someone said that to me." 

"I mean it, Monica," he continued. "You are a very lovely young woman." 

Reyes looked searchingly into his eyes as if she were seeking something that she evidently found, because a small, knowing smile appeared on her face. "I'm not that young, Walter," she told him. "At least, I'm old enough to know what I want." 

Skinner suddenly felt that there was another meaning behind her words, a message she was trying to convey. "And just what is it you want, Monica," he asked softly 

Reyes continued to watch him, that knowing smile still on her face and a sudden gleam in her eyes. She took a deep breath as if she was about to say something, then seemed to change her mind. "I think I'd rather answer that later, Walter," she replied. "Instead, I'd like to ask you a question." 

"What is your question, Monica?" Skinner asked, his curiosity piqued. 

"It's about that watchband in the shop," Reyes explained. "You really seemed to like it. Yet you are hesitating about buying it. Why?" 

"I told you ... I'm not sure it's really 'me'," Skinner replied. "It seems a bit flashy ... a bit elaborate for someone like me." 

"I disagree," Reyes replied. "That watchband isn't flashy at all. It's beautiful ... a piece of art crafted out of precious metals and stone ... something that will last and hold its value for years. The craftwork has dignity, grace and elegance. The gold has permanence ... it's timeless and will never change. The copper gives it warmth and the turquoise gives it passion." 

"So you are saying that the watchband symbolizes permanence, grace, elegance, dignity, warmth and passion," Skinner stated with a slight laugh. "All of which means that I'm right ... it isn't me." 

"No Walter, all of which means you're wrong," Reyes continued, her voice low and almost seductive. "That watchband IS you. It's everything that I think of when I think of you. It's as if some Navajo craftsman had imagined in his mind every quality that you have and translated it into metal and turquoise." 

Skinner felt himself blushing at her words. The look in her eyes and the tone of her voice made it clear to him that she was sincere, that this was how she saw him. His eyes locked with hers and the message he read there was unmistakable; an invitation to proceed further. Subtle perhaps, but an invitation nonetheless. One that surprised, excited and, to some extent, frightened him all at the same time. He tried to find the words to respond, but they simply wouldn't come. 

Again, he saw that flicker of understanding in her eyes that made him feel that she was reading his thoughts. "Maybe I'm being a bit too forward," she said quietly. "But as you know by now, I'm used to saying what I feel. And that is what I feel about you." 

Reyes waved down Lucia, who was talking to another of her guests, but quickly excused herself and came back to the table. "So you have finished," she commented. "It was good, eh?" 

"Lucia, it was the best Mexican meal I've had since ... well ... since the last time I was here!" Reyes exclaimed. 

"And you, Mr. Skinner, did you enjoy it," Lucia turned to him with a huge smile on her face. 

Skinner was able to smile back and answer with complete sincerity, "Mrs. Valesquez, it was one of the best meals I've ever had ... certainly the best Mexican food I've ever eaten." 

"You have good taste, Mr. Skinner." Lucia laughed. "If you come back here again, I'll make sure you get just as good the next time ... maybe even better!" 

"I don't see how it can get much better," Skinner replied with a chuckle as he began to reach for his wallet, "How much do I owe ..." 

"You can pay for it out in the store," Lucia explained. "Alberto told me he is holding something for you in the gift shop ... we'll add the lunch to your bill out there, no problem." 

"Sounds great," Skinner told her as he began to stand up, noticing that Reyes did so as well. "It's another 90 minute drive back into Phoenix, so I suppose we had better finish our shopping and head on back." He extended his hand to Lucia, who once again took it warmly in both her own, "It's been a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Valesquez." 

"You too, Mr. Skinner," she replied. "Please come again ... and bring Monica with you," she added, glancing fondly at Reyes. 

Reyes smiled fondly back and threw her arms around the older woman, "You know that I always come back," she told Lucia as she hugged her tightly. "I'll be sure to tell Mom that I saw you." 

"Please, and give her and your papa my love," Lucia exclaimed, before releasing Reyes from her embrace. "Travel safely, both of you. Vaya con Dios!" 

Skinner and Reyes went back into the gift shop and directly to the counter where Alberto was holding their selections. Reyes had selected a beautifully painted pottery bowl, a copper bracelet set with turquoise and onyx and a delicately painted fan. Her purchases paid for, she stepped aside to let Skinner take his turn. 

"You had the belt, right?" Alberto asked, has he pulled it from behind the counter. 

"That's right," Skinner replied. He paused for a moment, then asked "Could I see that watchband again, please?" 

Reyes stepped a little closer as Alberto produced the watchband and laid it in Skinner's hand. Skinner regarded it closely, turning it over and examining every inch. Reyes inched even closer, close enough for him to feel the warmth of her skin, even though they weren't touching. He turned to her and held out the watchband, "Did you want to take a closer look at it?" 

Reyes accepted the watchband and, like Skinner, examined it closely before looking back up at him, "You know, I think the best thing would be for you to try it on," she commented. "You can see if you like the look and the feel of it." 

"You may be right," Skinner replied, beginning to stretch his hand out to take it from her, but Reyes held it back and shook her head slightly with a mischievous smile. Skinner got the message and held out his arm. Reyes unfastened the clasp and brought the band up around his wrist, then slowly re-fastened the clasp. Skinner watched as her fingers lightly, almost caressingly traced over the intricate carvings in the watchband, then slowly slid over his wrist and down his hand, sending a slight shiver through him. He regarded the watchband for a moment or two, then locked eyes with her once again, smiling as he spoke, "It looks pretty damned good." 

Reyes smiled back at him, "It certainly does," she replied. "It's like I said Walter ... that watchband was made for you." 

Skinner turned back to Alberto, still standing behind the counter. "Please add this to my bill, Mr. Valesquez," he stated. "And just put the box in the bag with everything else ... I'm going to wear it now." 

**CHAPTER FIVE**

"No ... no ..." 

Skinner heard those choked words from Dana Scully as she struggled with John Doggett, who was trying to keep her from seeing what the rest of them had seen. 

"No ... Agent Scully ... you don't want to see," he pleaded with her as she broke from his grasp. 

They all watched helplessly as she knelt beside the huddled form, now mercifully covered from the shoulders down with a blanket. Her hand trembled as she reached out and touched Mulder's cold, bruised face. It was obvious that she refused to accept what was so evident as she scrambled to her feet, murmuring, "He needs help ... he needs help!" 

Skinner would never have believed that the tough as nails John Doggett could have spoken so gently as he did to her at that moment. "It's too late, Agent Scully," as he tried to reach out for her. 

But Scully evaded his grasp, crying, "No ... no it's not," as she turned and began to run blindly, back towards the house. Doggett looked as if he would follow but Skinner raised his hand in a signal to stop him. Doggett shouldn't have to bear this burden ... it was his to bear. And so he turned and followed Scully back through the woods, toward the compound. 

Skinner was just approaching the hill when he felt the ground begin to shake and saw a blinding light. He heard screams and yells and pushed himself to run faster as he headed up the hill. He had just hit the top when the light seemed to disappear. And then he heard just one scream ... Scully's scream. 

He hurtled himself down the hill and towards the main bunkhouse of the compound, inwardly pleading, "No, please God let her be all right!" He would never have believed that he could move so fast. As his long legs closed the distance, carrying him across the yard he heard Scully cry out "This is not happening!" 

Then he was at the door of the bunkhouse and shot through it, storming down the hall into the anteroom off the sleep area. He crossed the threshold in time to see Scully drop to her knees, shoulders heaving. She raised her head to the ceiling and screamed the single word, "Nooooo!" before she collapsed into heartrending sobs. 

Skinner was beside her in an instant, his arms around her, raising her off the floor. For a moment, she accepted his embrace. Then she pulled away from him and looked up into his face, anger and accusation in her eyes. "You were going to look out for him," she cried, lashing out in her grief and despair. "You promised me. You let me down! You let him down!" 

"Agent Scully ..." he tried to interrupt her but she would not be stopped. 

"He's dead! Mulder is dead because you couldn't protect him," she screamed, her words cutting him like a knife. "It's your fault! Mulder is dead and it's all your fault!" 

Skinner's chest heaved as he fought back his own emotions, the sudden tears coming to his own eyes. His hands gripped Scully's shoulders tightly as he fought for control. "Dana, please ..." he pleaded in a voice that was suddenly shaky. 

Scully shook her head and then, all of the anger seemed to leave her to be replaced with overwhelming grief. She collapsed into his arms then, her body shaking with the sobs she could no longer hold back. She buried her face in his chest, clinging to him as if he was the only secure thing left in her life. 

Skinner held her closely, attempting to comfort her as she wept, but at the same time her words continued to echo in his brain over and over again ... It's your fault ... Mulder is dead and it's your fault! ... Mulder is dead. . . . . . . . . . 

**CHAPTER SIX**

"Walter ... Walter, are you okay?" 

Skinner came awake to the feel of sunshine and a warm breeze on his face and the sense of motion that comes when one is in a vehicle. He shook his head to clear it and realized that he was in a car ... traveling back towards Phoenix ... and that Monica Reyes was with him. 

He turned to the side to see Reyes looking at him worriedly. "Are you okay, Walter?" she asked again, her concern evident. 

Skinner managed a faint smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just fell asleep, I guess," he told her. "Guess I'm getting old ... I was up early this morning and then that huge lunch. The movement of the car just put me right out." 

"I'm not worried about you taking a nap," Reyes replied. "But you seemed to be dreaming ... and it didn't look like a pleasant dream at all." 

"It was nothing, Monica," he tried to reassure her. "Just a dream, nothing to worry about." 

Reyes still looked doubtful, but when she realized that he didn't want to talk about it any further, she decided not to press it. "Why don't I turn on the radio?" she enquired. 

"Good idea," Skinner agreed. 

Reyes pushed a button and the sounds of The Eagles "Life in the Fast Lane" wafted through the car. "This okay with you?" she asked. 

"Sounds great," Skinner replied. As Reyes returned her attention to the road, Skinner settled back in his seat, shut his eyes and tried to forget the dream and lose himself in the music and the motion. 

It was just past 4 p.m. when Reyes brought the car to a halt in front of Skinner's Casita suite. "Well, we're back," she said with a smile. 

Skinner was somewhat reluctant to get out of the car and bring the day to an end. "It's still pretty early," he commented. "Do you have any special plans for the evening?" 

"Actually, I don't have any plans at all," Reyes replied. "What I was thinking of doing right now was going back to my room, changing into my swimsuit and having a nice long swim. After all this time in the car, the thought of the Canyon pool is just to tempting to resist." 

"A swim does sound pretty good," Skinner mused. 

"Well, why don't you join me, Walter?" Reyes asked impulsively. "That is ... if you don't have any other plans ..." 

"No, I don't have any plans at all," Skinner answered. "You sure you don't mind the company?" 

"I wouldn't have asked if I'd minded," Reyes chided. "I've really enjoyed our time together today, Walter. And I've gotten the feeling you've enjoyed it too." 

"I have, Monica," Skinner replied in a quiet voice. "I've enjoyed it very much." 

"Well then, we might as well continue," Reyes said in a practical tone of voice. "So why don't you meet me down at the Canyon Pool in about a half-hour? Usually around this time of day, it's not very crowded so we'll have the pool all to ourselves." 

"You're on!" Skinner replied as he opened the door and climbed out of the car. "The Canyon Pool in 30 minutes." 

Reyes smiled warmly at him, "I'll be looking forward to it," she said, and he thought he detected a special meaning behind her words. Then, with a wave, she drove off toward the main building, as he watched, waving his own hand in response. 

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

Thirty minutes later, Skinner had made his way to the Canyon Pool, one of nine pools at the Phoenician. It was an absolutely beautiful pool ... in truth it looked more like a lake than a pool, with plenty of lovely natural landscaping and across the water, a small "island" with a waterfall. 

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he heard a by-now familiar voice say and he turned to see Monica Reyes walking up behind him. She had a canvas bag in which he could see two towels stuffed and she wore one of the hotel's terrycloth robes and a pair of sandals on her feet, her hair loose and tumbling. 

"Yes, it is beautiful," Skinner replied. "I was just thinking that it looks more like a lake than a swimming pool." 

"Well, in reality that's what it is ... a man-made lake," Reyes replied as she set her bag down on one of the lounge chairs and untied the sash of her robe. She quickly slipped off the white terrycloth and stood before him in a one-piece emerald green maillot suit that seemed to emphasize the beauty of the body that it covered. The suit's neckline was cut low enough to reveal that her beautiful and firm breasts were absolutely real. It clung enough to show off her slender waist and lovely rounded hips, and was cut high enough in the leg to reveal them in all of their long shapeliness. Skinner couldn't help but stare and once again marvel at just how beautiful this woman was. 

Reyes reached into her bag and pulled out a bathing cap. As she began to stuff her dark hair into it, she gestured to Skinner, "Do you always go swimming fully dressed, Walter?" 

As she wrestled with the bathing cap, Skinner removed his shorts and shirt, to reveal a pair of dark blue swimming trunks. As Reyes gave a last tug to the bathing cap, she looked over at him and he saw the admiration in her eyes, a reward for all of his work at keeping himself in shape. He might not be as young as some of the studs hanging around the pool, but he had nothing to be ashamed of either in his broad shoulders, deep, defined chest, hard flat belly and narrow hips. "Wow, I was right," she said in wonder. "You haven't got an ounce of fat on you. Those swimming trunks become you!" 

They both stood regarding each other for a moment, each eying the other appreciatively. Then Reyes broke the spell, "Okay, let's get that swim," she called out as she turned and ran toward the water. "Last one in is a rotten egg!" 

Skinner followed along behind Reyes and watched as she neatly executed a dive into the water. At the edge of the pool, he gave a leap and propelled himself up and into the air, feeling a sense of freedom and euphoria as first his head and shoulders and then the rest of his body sliced into the cool, refreshing liquid. For a few seconds, he allowed himself to simply enjoy the feeling of weightlessness that comes immediately after a dive into deep water. Then he positioned his body and stroked upward towards the sunlight he could see beating upon the crystal clear water. 

Two strokes ... three ... and his head broke through the surface and was warmed by the sunlight. He looked about and saw that Reyes had also come up and was treading water, smiling at him with pure delight and enjoyment, a smile that he matched with his own. She called out to him, "Race you to the waterfall!" 

"You're on!" Skinner called back. "We'll start on the count of three. One ..." 

"Two!" Reyes shot back. 

Then "Three!" in unison and they were off, splashing furiously as they displaced water with arms and legs and bodies, moving towards their goal. Skinner was a powerful swimmer, his strong arms and legs propelling him forward, but while Reyes' strokes weren't as powerful they were faster and moved her lighter body through the water at a comparable speed. He was surprised to find that he was really having to work to stay just slightly ahead of her. And while the gentlemanly thing to do would be to let her win, when it came to a race his manners quickly deserted him, to be replaced by a fiercely competitive spirit and overwhelming will to win. 

He pushed himself harder, summoning up his strength and stroking with even more power, finally pulling a good two lengths ahead of Reyes, a distance that she simply could not overcome. He pulled up and halted at the small man-made island just under the waterfall and watched as she came up alongside him, his chest heaving with his exertions. 

Reyes too was somewhat out of breath as she allowed herself to float limply on the surface of the water, her body's natural buoyancy keeping her afloat. "Wow!" she breathed. "Good race!" 

Skinner continued to tread water as his breathing began to gradually slow down. "Yeah!" he exclaimed. "You're one hell of a good swimmer, Monica." 

Reyes smiled ruefully, "Not good enough since you were able to beat me!" 

Skinner began to feel just slightly guilty that he had pushed so hard to win. Following her lead, he laid back in the water and allowed his body to go limp, floating on his back and allowing the water to carry him over to where she was floating. "Maybe I should have let you win," he enquired as he came closer. 

"Not on your life, Walter," Reyes replied, observing him as he came closer. "I like to win, but if I can't win on my own, it's not worth it. You beat me fair and square." 

"Still, I feel a little guilty," Skinner confessed, his arms floating limply at his side. "Especially since you really ARE a good swimmer ... I really had to work to beat you." 

Reyes pulled her legs down in the water and began to tread water as Skinner came even closer to her ... close enough to touch her. He thought he detected a mischievous light in her eyes as she came up alongside him. "Really?" she questioned. "You really had to work at it, huh?" 

"I sure did," Skinner replied, feeling even more relaxed, enjoying the sense of weightlessness as he floated beside her. 

"And you feel guilty about beating me," Reyes enquired, her eyes dancing and a wicked little smile beginning to grow on her lips. 

"Yeah, I really do," Skinner responded. 

"Maybe I can help you feel better about that," Reyes giggled. Then in one quick motion, she dove underwater and before Skinner knew what was happening, he felt himself first being pushed up and then dragged down into the water, the cool liquid engulfing him completely. 

Taken so completely by surprise, it took him a moment to recover, right himself and come back to the surface. By the time he did, Reyes was already several yards away, swimming back toward the concrete "shore." She stopped for a moment and turned, laughing at him, "Let's see if you can catch me now!" 

With a sound that was half a laugh and half a roar, Skinner shot through the water after her, following the sounds of her laughter as he swam. 

Perhaps it was because she was already tired from the earlier swim, perhaps it was because she was laughing so hard she couldn't build up her speed, but in any event it didn't take Skinner long to catch up with Reyes. As he came closer, he reached out and grabbed her by the ankle, pulling her in closer to him. They were in shallow water now, and Skinner was able to stand on the bottom with the water coming up just over his waistline as he pulled her towards him. At first she resisted, struggling futilely against his pull. Then suddenly, the resistance went out of her and she allowed herself to be dragged in. Skinner gave one last mighty tug, and then the next thing he knew she was practically on top of him, her legs wrapped around his waist in the water and her hands resting on his shoulders. 

Skinner looked at that beautiful face with the smiling lips and dancing eyes just inches away from his own and suddenly was overcome with the longing to pull her even closer and kiss the breath right out of her. He tried desperately to push that longing aside, but as if she knew what he was thinking, Reyes moved her hands up from his shoulders and locked them behind his neck, as if she were signaling to him that she knew what he wanted, and that she wanted it, too. 

Overcome by this compulsion, Skinner pulled her closer and bent his head down towards hers, allowing his lips to lightly brush against hers. At just this light touch, a wave of desire swept over him, so intense that it took all of his will power to pull back from Reyes, to try to gauge her reaction before he went any further. 

Reyes was looking up at him, her arms still locked around his neck. Her lips were slightly parted and her smile was no longer mischievous, but inviting. Wordlessly, she tilted her head back just a little more, parted her lips still further and pulled his head down towards hers. 

That was all the invitation Skinner needed. Gone was any thought that this woman was a fellow agent and considerably younger than he was. His mouth pressed down on hers forcefully, his own lips parted. His arms crushed her to him as he kissed her hungrily, passionately, as if he would devour her alive. As Skinner held her closely, wrapped securely in his arms, he could feel Reyes responding to him, her own tongue, warm and sweet, exploring his mouth as eagerly as he explored hers. Her arms tightened around his neck in a grip almost as ruthless as his own. Pressed so close together, he could feel her heart racing and her breathing become rapid, just as she could feel that his desire for her was rapidly growing. 

Finally, they broke the kiss, both gasping for air. But although the kiss was broken, they continued to hold each other there in the water, reluctant to break contact with each other. Reyes was no longer smiling, but her eyes held a look of mingled awe and wonder as she regarded Skinner, "Wow," she whispered. "You amaze me, Walter." 

Skinner began to pull away from Reyes, but she continued to cling to him. "Monica ...please ..." 

"Please what?" she asked, her voice still breathless from their kiss. 

"If you don't let go ... if we keep this up ..." Skinner began, his voice husky with desire and emotion. "Monica, I'm not sure where this will lead." 

Reyes pulled herself even closer, so that when she spoke Skinner could feel her breath warm against his skin, "I know exactly where it's going to lead," she whispered. "Your bedroom." 

At her words, he used all of his strength to pull her back so they were at arms length, so he could truly see her face. "Monica, are you sure?" he asked quietly, his eyes searching hers. 

Reyes smiled again, this time tenderly and her eyes showed no doubt, only a desire that seemed to match his own. "Oh yes Walter, I'm sure," she replied, again moving so close to him that she could feel his excitement and desire. "And from what I'm sensing here, I think you are too. Come on, let's go back to your suite." 

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

Skinner slipped the key card into the door and listened for the click, then opened it and held the door open for Reyes to pass in front of him. She moved past him, lightly brushing against him as she passed, took a few steps inside and paused to look around at the opulent surroundings: the beautifully furnished living room complete with a fireplace, large screen television, fully equipped wet bar, and Bose stereo system; and the spacious dining area. "This is very nice," she commented. "Absolutely beautiful." 

Skinner closed the door and stepped into the room, consciously keeping a distance between himself and Reyes. "Yes, it is," he agreed. "It also has a beautiful view of the lake and then the mountains off in the distance. You can see them from the main window here and from the bedroom window." 

"Really," Reyes commented as crossed further into the room and set her bag down on one of the overstuffed chairs in the living room. "I'll have to make a point of checking the view out ... from the bedroom, I mean." 

The swim back to the patio and then the walk back to the suite had provided a somewhat calming effect on Skinner. When they had been entwined in their kiss in the pool, he had not been able to think of a thing except how much he wanted this woman. If they had not been out in public, he would have taken her there and then. But the walk back had given him time to reflect, to think about what it was they were about to do. "Monica, before we go in there ... I mean before we do anything ..." 

Reyes turned, a questioning look on her face, "Yes, Walter?" 

Strange how difficult it was to get the next words out, Skinner thought to himself. "Monica, are you sure you want to do this?" 

He was appalled to see an expression of hurt cross Reyes' face. Her eyes fell to the floor and when she spoke it was in a surprisingly small voice, "Are you trying to tell me that ... you don't want to? You ... don't ... want me?" 

Skinner crossed the short distance between them quickly, cursing himself inwardly for his awkwardness. He placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her towards him, although she continued to keep her head down, "No Monica, that's not what I'm trying to tell you," he said gently. "I just need to know that you're sure about this. I'm no super stud, and I'm a hell of a lot older than you. I don't want you to feel that you have to ..." 

"Shshhhh!" Reyes lifted her head so her eyes met his and raised her hand to place a finger on his lips. "Remember at lunch I told you that I know what I want?" 

"Yes ...?" Skinner made the single word a question as his hands slipped from Reyes's shoulders to lightly circle her waist. 

"This is what I want," Reyes finished, moving her finger off his lips and lightly caressing his cheek with her hand. "I want you, Walter. Right here and right now. I'm as sure of that as I've been of anything else in my life." 

Skinner pulled her closer to him and his lips sought hers. As her mouth opened to his, all thoughts of anything but this place and this woman left his brain, replaced only by a rising desire. As before, he felt Reyes press herself even closer to him, her arms around his neck pulling him deeper into their kiss. When they broke for air, he had no more thoughts of anything except how much he wanted and needed this woman in his arms. And as he looked into her eyes, he saw his own desire reflected in their smoky depths. "Let's go into the bedroom," he whispered. 

Never letting go of each other, arms around each other's waists, they went into the luxurious bedroom, which was still bright with the last rays of the day's sunlight streaming in. They stopped at the foot of the bed and again reached for each other and began to kiss deeply, passionately, as if they would never stop. Skinner's hands became entwined in Reyes hair and then began to roam along her back and shoulders, all the while drinking in the warmth of her mouth. Then he allowed his lips to move down, kissing and biting the soft, warm skin of her throat and shoulders. All the while he could feel her hands roaming first along his back and shoulders, then proceeding down his chest until they reached the lapels of his robe. With one quick gesture she pulled on the robe causing the loosely tied sash to come apart and with a second tug, she had pulled it off him and it had fallen to the floor. 

His hands were no less busy. Her robe was already open, so all it took was for him to slip his hands down over her shoulders to push it off her and onto the floor. He continued to kiss her deeply as his hands began to move to the shoulder straps of her swimsuit. Slowly, he moved the straps down her arms until they reached just below her elbows. He felt Reyes step back slightly then as she pulled her arms out of the straps and up over her head, allowing him the freedom to move the suit down the rest of her body. 

As her full breasts came into view, he began to lavish them with kisses, all the while moving her swimsuit down the rest of her body, marveling as each inch of her came into view ... the slender, tapered waist, the curvaceous hips and rounded butt. Once he had pulled it over her rear, it took one quick pull and the suit fell to the floor, making it easy for Reyes to step out of it. As she stepped back, he drank in the full sight of her, from the top of her dark hair to the bottom of her slender feet, and he couldn't help but regard her with awe, "My God, Monica," he breathed. "You are beautiful." 

Reyes smiled her thanks and again stepped closer to Skinner, reaching up to touch his face with one hand while her other hand rested lightly on his shoulder. Then her hands began to move downward, running along his shoulders to his muscled arms, then from there over his chest, before moving to the waistband of his swimming trunks. She gave a tug, pulling them downward and they dropped quickly to the floor. 

For just a moment, Skinner felt the slight awkwardness a man feels when he is naked before a younger woman. But the awkwardness vanished when he saw the admiration in Reyes' eyes, "Oh Walter," she breathed, "You are ... magnificent." 

Then there was no time for thinking as he and Reyes fell on the bed together, each focused on exploring the other's body, savoring the feel of skin upon skin. Every touch, every stroke, every caress that Skinner lavished upon Reyes she returned with equal abandon. As he tasted and devoured her body with his mouth, she eagerly did the same to him, showing as much enjoyment in his pleasure as she took in her own. 

And then when took her, with a passion that surprised him, he found that she met him with equal passion, her arms wrapped around him, pulling him ever closer to her. He could hear her moans and cries over the blood pounding in his head and as if through a haze, saw the joy and abandon on her face as she achieved her climax. This was enough to pull him over the edge and his release came with a force and intensity that left him breathless and exhausted. 

Then they were lying together side by side by side upon the bed, both gasping and completely spent. It was Reyes who recovered first, lifting her self upon on one elbow so that she could look into his face. "Walter, remember what you said earlier ... about not being a super stud?" 

Skinner looked up at her, feeling a sudden tightening in the pit of his stomach, "Yes?" 

Reyes smiled down upon him, a smile filled with joy, wonder and satisfaction, "Maybe you're not ... but you are a wonderful, wonderful lover." 

Her words warmed and touched him, and he reached up and drew her towards him, so that her hair fell and brushed his chest and her face was so close he could feel her breath, still coming in small, warm gasps. "And you Monica ... you are ... perfect," he whispered, and drew her face down until her lips met his. 

This kiss lacked the passion of the earlier kisses, but was infinitely sweeter and more tender ... a kiss shared by two people who had found joy and satisfaction in each other. Long and slow, soft and tender, they broke it slowly, reluctantly. Then Reyes sank back down onto the bed to lie cuddled in the crook of Skinner's arm, her head resting upon his chest. Holding her close to him, feeling her warmth, Skinner closed his eyes and sighed, feeling for the first time in what seemed like forever, a sense of peace. 

**CHAPTER NINE**

Skinner and Reyes lay together silently as the sun began to set and the room darkened, neither sleeping, just enjoying the moments that followed their lovemaking. Skinner enjoyed this quiet time, holding Reyes close to him, feeling the warm silk of her skin pressed against him. With her head resting on his chest, he could feel the smoothness of her cheek and the softness of her hair. With his free arm he reached over and began to stroke her hair. He felt her move within his arms as she sighed and murmured against his chest, "That's nice!" 

"You like that?" he asked as he continued to stroke her hair. 

"Um hum," she responded lazily, shifting her position slightly. As he stroked her hair, so she began to stroke his chest, her fingers brushing lightly along the firm muscles and playing with the fine hairs. Her caresses were gentle and soothing, causing him to relax still further. For a few minutes more they continued to lay silently, the only sound in the room their deep, quiet breathing. 

This time it was Skinner who broke the silence. "Monica, I have to ask you something." 

"Let me guess ... " she replied, her voice slightly muffled. "You want to know if I'm sorry we did this?" 

"Are you?" he asked quietly. 

Reyes turned and planted several light kisses upon his chest before she sat up and looked down at him. Her expression showed that she took his question seriously and was prepared to give him a serious answer. "No, Walter," she replied. "I wanted this ... and I wanted you." 

Skinner gazed up at her in wonder, reaching up to brush a stray tendril of hair from her face, then resting his hand lightly against her cheek. "Why me, Monica," he queried. "You are a beautiful young woman who could have her pick of men. I'm not young, not terribly good looking ... why choose me?" 

Reyes moved her head so that her lips were against his hand. She kissed the palm tenderly before taking it in her own, her fingers twining through his. "Because you are the one I wanted," she answered calmly. "You were carrying something for me ... whether you realized it or not ...it's not something I can fully explain right now, but it's something that I needed and wanted. And I feel that in some way, I'm carrying something for you." She paused and regarded him solemnly. "What about you, Walter? Are you sorry?" 

Skinner pulled Reyes back down so that she was lying more or less on top of him, her face close to his. He lifted his head slightly off the pillow and kissed her gently. "No Monica," he whispered as his head fell back upon the pillow, "I'm not sorry at all!" 

Reyes face lit up with that slow, glowing smile he was coming to know so well and she hugged him tightly, her head resting on his shoulder and her cheek pressed against his. He hugged her back just as tightly, his arms wrapped around her. Then, he felt a strange vibration coming from Reyes' abdomen, accompanied by a small, growling sound. "Oops," he heard her say and felt her giggle softly. He felt a smile come to his own face as he realized what it was. "Are you hungry, Monica," he asked. 

Reyes lifted her head off his shoulder, her eyes dancing, "What can I say, I'm betrayed by own stomach," she laughed. "Yeah, I guess I am a bit. How about you?" 

When he stopped to think about it, Skinner realized that his own stomach ached emptily. "You know, I am," he remarked. "I can't believe it though, after that huge lunch we ate." 

"Well Walter, that lunch was almost six hours ago," Reyes commented. "And we have been rather active since then ... our swim ... and," she paused and smiled mischievously, "... our other activities." 

"That's true, Monica, I'd say we burned off our lunch," Skinner replied. "So, do you want to go to one of the restaurants downstairs ... or go out ... or we could order room service." 

"Why don't we go down to the Thirsty Camel Lounge," Reyes suggested. "They serve up great appetizers, soups, salads and sandwiches, besides making terrific drinks. And the music is always pretty good there." 

"That sounds good to me," Skinner answered. "But I think I'm going to need a shower before we go." 

"Well, so am I," Reyes replied. "And I do need to go back to my room and put some clothes on. I can't very well stroll down to the Thirsty Camel in my swimsuit and robe, can I?" 

"No, I don't suppose you can," Skinner replied as Reyes rolled off him and gracefully rose from the bed, giving him a full view of her beautiful and naked body. She picked her swimsuit up from the floor and stepped into it, pulling it quickly up to cover first the perfect butt, slim waist and finally her pert breasts as she pulled the shoulder straps into place. 

Skinner lifted himself off the bed and reached for the robe that Reyes had casually tossed aside, wrapping it around him and tying the sash. Reyes had also found her robe and had slipped it on and together the two walked back out into the living room area. Reyes picked up her oversize bag and swung it over her shoulder, then turned back to Skinner, "What do you say I meet you back here in about 45 minutes?" 

"That sounds good," Skinner replied. Reyes nodded and began to walk to the door and as he realized that she was leaving, he felt a momentary sense of loss, even though he realized that he would be seeing her again shortly, "Monica," he called out. 

Reyes stopped and turned to look at him, one eyebrow lifted, "Yes?" 

Skinner moved close to her and took her face in his hands, "Why don't you bring back a change of clothes ... and anything else you think you will need in the morning?" 

Reyes smiled tenderly at him and placed her arms around his neck, pulling his head down towards hers. "You betcha!" she replied just before their lips met. 

**CHAPTER TEN**

The Thirsty Camel could have been any hotel lounge. Slightly dimmed lighting, comfortable tables and chairs and good music playing on the stereo system, definitely geared to the over 40's crowd. There was a dance floor for those who wanted to enjoy some physical activity and fast and friendly food and beverage service. 

Skinner and Reyes sat at one of the corner tables, finishing off their meal and a pitcher of beer. Neither was in the mood for anything too heavy, so they agreed to share an appetizer platter piled high with Buffalo wings, fried shrimp, batter-dipped fried mushrooms, potato skins and fried mozzarella. The combination was just what they both needed to fill the empty places in their stomachs and restore energy. 

Reyes had changed into an orange cotton sundress that emphasized the beauty of her dark hair and eyes. Looking at her across the table, Skinner was still trying to figure out why she had chosen him for a lover. He had noticed how several of the single men in the lounge had looked her way when they entered. All she needed to do was give one of them a sign and they would be at her side. All of them young and good-looking ... she could have her pick. So why had she chosen him? 

"Walter, are you still there?" he heard her voice prodding him out of his reverie. 

"I'm sorry Monica, my mind was elsewhere," he said apologetically. 

"I could almost take offense at that, unless your mind was on me," Reyes teased, then she turned serious. "You know Walter, last night at dinner I talked a lot about myself. But I really don't know very much about you." 

Skinner realized the truth of her words. Despite their physical intimacy, he had really shared very little about himself with her. "That is true," he admitted. "And I suppose it really isn't fair. So why don't you tell me what you want to know about me?" 

"Why don't we start with where you were born," Reyes asked. "And then, just sort of tell me what you want me to know." 

"I was born in San Diego," Skinner began, thinking back. "My father was stationed there, but we moved to Detroit when he finished his service. He worked as a platform designer for General Motors." 

"Are your parents still in living in Detroit?" Reyes asked. 

Skinner felt the sadness descend on him as he thought about his parents. "They're dead," he said quietly. "It was back in 1989 ... they were on a plane out of Detroit heading for California to visit some old friends. The plane crashed as it tried to take off. There was only one survivor, a baby girl." 

Reyes reached out and took his hand in hers, "Oh my God, Walter I'm so sorry," she whispered. "That must have been such a shock!" 

"Yeah, it was," Skinner spoke in a voice dulled by grief as he remembered receiving the news. "I tried to tell myself that at least they died together, and it happened quickly so maybe they never knew what was coming. Still ... " he paused for a moment. 

"Still that doesn't make it any easier," Reyes finished for him, squeezing his hand tightly. 

Skinner was grateful for the contact of her hand and returned the squeeze. "Anyway, they're gone now. But I do have a brother and sister. Mike is an investment banker in New York and Brenda is a history professor at Cambridge University." 

"So how did you happen to come into the FBI?" Reyes enquired. 

"When I got out of the Marines, I went to school on the G.I. Bill," Skinner explained. "I was taking a mixed bag of classes then, mostly business administration, but I knew I didn't really want to go into business. I had this crazy idea of wanting to continue to serve my country in a civilian capacity. A Department of Justice recruiter came and spoke at a career fair. Listening to him speak about Federal Law enforcement, about not just the career opportunities but the chance to do some good for our country, I knew then that's what I wanted to do with my life. I switched my major to criminal law with a business administration minor. I applied even before I graduated. Then I went right to work for the Bureau a week after I got my degree." 

"You went into the Marines before you went to college?" Reyes asked. "That must have been bad luck, getting a low draft number.' 

"I wasn't drafted," Skinner explained. "I enlisted. Went to the recruiting office the day after I graduated." 

"You enlisted?" Reyes was obviously surprised. "Wasn't that ... I mean ... I don't want to assume about your age, but wasn't that during Vietnam?" 

"Yes, it was," Skinner replied. "I joined up in June 1968. Things in Vietnam were really beginning to heat up then." 

"I don't understand," Reyes face showed true puzzlement. "Why would you voluntarily enlist when you knew you would probably be sent to Vietnam?" 

Skinner was silent for a moment. It had been a long time since he had been asked that question ... years in fact ... and the last person who had asked it was an anti-war protester who found it impossible to understand what had driven him to enlist. He searched for the words to try to explain his feelings to the young woman sitting across from him. Finally, he sighed, "That's not an easy thing to explain, Monica. I suppose that what it comes down to is I love this country. I love everything that it stands for, here and overseas. And back then, I truly believed that if my country needed me, then I had to answer that call. My country needed me to fight for the principle of freedom, even though it was in a small country in Asia." 

Reyes said nothing, but continued to watch him, her eyes fixed searchingly upon his face as he continued. "I don't mean to sound like a super-patriot. I wasn't then and I'm not now. But I felt the need to protect our ideals, and to serve our country, even back then. So I didn't wait; I enlisted. Because for me, it was the right thing to do." 

"Have you ever regretted your decision, Walter?" Reyes asked. 

Again, Skinner was silent, his eyes bent downward, seeing not the table but a series of images from the past. His mind went back to those days of hellish basic training, the punishment his body and his mind took. He remembered those days in the jungle, the first combat action he took part in. The first human life he ever took. He remembered the mental anguish it caused him, a pain so great that he sought to block it out with drugs. He felt again the agony of bullets and shrapnel ripping into his flesh ... the fear of death and the long slow recovery. Watching his comrades, his brothers-in-arms going down under hails of grenades and gunfire. Brave men who would never come home again, or if they did, like him, would never be the same. He remembered all that it had done to shape him, to make him what he was. 

Slowly, he lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers. The expression in his eyes was sad, haunted, and yet also contained great pride. "No, Monica," he replied. "I will never regret my decision. When I enlisted, I did the right thing ... for our country ... and for me!" 

He was surprised to see her eyes fill with tears as her lips formed a tremulous smile filled with emotion and awe, "Oh Walter," she breathed, "You are so very special." 

Skinner was pleased by her obvious admiration, but at the same time, felt slightly uncomfortable by it. Rapidly, his mind sought a way to change the direction of the conversation. He was helped when the tune on the stereo system changed to a slow, soft instrumental tune, Floyd Cramer's "Last Dance." It had been a favorite of his for years. "How would you like to dance, Monica?" he asked her. 

Reyes was surprised by this offer, but also pleased and eager, "I would love to dance with you," she replied. 

They rose from the table and, taking her hand, he led her out to the dance floor. He pulled her close, wrapping one arm around her slender waist as they began to move to the slow, old-fashioned tune. As their bodies pressed together, gliding slowly and rhythmically to the music, Skinner was beginning to feel the stirrings of desire again, this time mingled with something more, a kind of tenderness. He gazed down into Reyes face, his eyes meeting hers and he could tell that she knew what he was thinking and feeling. Her lips curved into that sweet smile he was coming to love, then she silently rested her head upon his shoulder as the continued to dance. Skinner held her still closer, breathing in her scent and simply enjoying the warmth and the feel of her body pressed against his as the music surrounded them. 

When the song ended, Reyes lifted her head from his shoulder and pulled back slightly so she could look straight up into his face. "Why don't we call it a night, Walter?" she asked. "Let's pay the check and go back to your place." 

**CHAPTER 11**

"No, you can't do that to him!" 

Scully stood before Skinner out side of the pathology lab, her eyes flashing fire. "Agent Scully, you know it's procedure ... " he began. 

"You can't do it," she all but screamed back at him. "I won't let any one cut him up!" 

Skinner grasped her shoulders tightly in his own, turning her to face him, "My God, Dana, do you think I want to let them do this?" he demanded. "But it's agency procedure with an unexplained death. Don't you want to know what killed Mulder?" 

"I already know," Scully shouted back, her face a mask of rage. "Damn it, sir, I've already conducted two autopsies and I know exactly what they're going to find in there. Nothing different from what we found in the other two. Those bastards that took him tortured him to death, pure and simple." 

Then the rage left her to be replaced with an overwhelming sadness and despair, "Sir, you can stop this," she pleaded. "He's already been cut and battered and examined enough. Doing it now won't change anything ... it won't bring him back. Please ... please sir ... after what he went through ... can't we let him rest in peace?" 

His heart accepted what she was saying, but his head still reminded him of the usual procedures to be followed in the death of an agent. "Dana, I understand," he told her softly. "And if it was up to me ..." 

"Don't give me that crap, it is up to you," her expression hardened and her voice was once again steely. "This is the last thing you can do for Mulder. Don't you think you owe him at least that much ... sir!" 

Skinner winced as her words cut like a knife, knowing the meaning that lay behind them. The least he could do ... since he had failed to protect Mulder. And Scully was right ... what was the point of an autopsy when they all knew that he had been tortured to death? Why allow the coroners and scientists to hack away even more at the pitiful remains? 

Wordlessly, Skinner turned away from Scully and opened the door to the pathology lab, where, discreetly covered by a gray sheet, the body of Fox Mulder lay on a cold metal table. The coroner and his assistant were just preparing the instrument tray to begin and looked up in surprise as he entered. "Mr. Skinner ... " the coroner began. 

"You can put those things away," Skinner told them. "There isn't going to be an autopsy on Agent Mulder." 

"But I thought ..." the coroner tried to speak again, but Skinner interrupted "You thought wrong! No autopsy!" 

The coroner shrugged and put the instrument tray away, turning to his assistant, "Come on, Stan," As the pair turned to leave, the coroner called over his shoulder, "I'll sign the papers to have the body released, then. We'll return it to the morgue until arrangements are made for pickup." 

As they left the pathology lab, Scully entered and moved quietly to Skinner's side. "Thank you, sir," she murmured. 

Skinner looked at the small red-haired woman, who in a few moments had gone from a wild, raging termagant to a quietly sorrowful Madonna. "You were right, Dana," he told her gently. "There was no purpose to be served." 

Scully nodded and then turned away and moved to the metal table. With a shaking hand, she reached out and pulled down the sheet to reveal Fox Mulder's bruised head and shoulders. Skinner couldn't help but feel that he was intruding as he watched her reach out and brush a lock of hair from Mulder's forehead, run her hand along his cheek and his chin. Then she raised her hand first to her mouth, allowing it to touch her own lips, then reached out and laid her fingers across Mulder's mouth. "No one will ever hurt you again, Mulder," she whispered through the tears that streamed down her face. "You can rest safely now ... I promise." 

Scully turned away then and brushed past Skinner, quickly leaving the room as her grief again engulfed her. Skinner knew he should go after her, but first he had something else to do. And so he approached the metal table and stood looking down at the still, stark and tortured face of his fallen agent. "I am so sorry, Mulder," he spoke through a lump in his throat that threatened to choke him. "I was supposed to look out for you ... to keep you safe. I failed to do that. I betrayed you. I let you down and I let Dana down." 

Skinner began to shake with the emotions that were stirring inside him ... the anger ... the grief and the guilt. Despite all of his efforts at control, the tears began to flow and his voice began to shake. "It's all my fault," he moaned as he sank to his knees beside the metal table. "Forgive me, Mulder ... please forgive me for letting you down!" . . . . . . . 

**CHAPTER 12**

. . . . . . "Walter ... Walter, wake up," the voice that broke through his consciousness was insistent, determined and feminine. "Come on, Walter. Wake up!" 

Skinner shook himself awake, sitting bolt upright in the bed, breathless and with his chest heaving. Where? ... What? ... then he remembered ... Phoenix ... the vacation ... Monica Reyes. 

He turned to see her lying beside him, propped up on one elbow. In the moonlight that streamed through the window, he could see the worried look on her face. "Walter, are you all right?" she asked. 

Skinner nodded as he regained his breath. "I'm fine, Monica," he told her. "Fine. Just a nightmare." 

"Are you sure that's all it was?" Reyes continued, her concern evident. "You were shaking and moaning in your sleep ..." 

"I'm sure, Monica," he told her. "It was just a nightmare. I'm just sorry I woke you." 

Reyes shook her head at those words, "That doesn't matter," she said quietly as she lay back on the pillow. She extended her arms out to him, "Come here, Walter." 

Skinner accepted the invitation and lay back on the bed in her embrace, his head pillowed on her breast. His tense body began to relax as he felt her gently stroking his shoulders, neck, and head. "It's okay," she murmured soothingly. "It's okay, Walter. Just relax and try to go back to sleep." 

The warmth of her body, the feather lightness of her caresses, the sound of her words washing over him and her heart beating underneath his ear served to soothe and calm him, and banish the remaining thoughts of the nightmare from his mind. He sighed deeply, closed his eyes ... and sank into oblivion. 

He awoke to the feeling of something tickling his nose and his chin. Opening his eyes, he was greeted with bright sunshine and the sight of dark hair upon the pillow next to his. Monica Reyes lay close to him, not quite next to him, her back to him. 

Skinner stretched lazily in the large bed, a smile coming to his face as he remembered the events of the day before ... and the night. He moved closer to Reyes until he was right next to her and spooned his body along hers, line for line, from her head resting against his chest down to her feet pressed against his, slipping his arm over and around her, encircling her waist. 

Holding her like that, he allowed his mind to drift back to what had transpired earlier in the evening, after they had returned from the lounge. Their lovemaking had been long, slow and leisurely, and again Reyes had been a generous and giving lover. She was as aggressive as he was in her actions, giving pleasure as easily as she took it. She had played his body like an instrument, finding the caresses that he enjoyed the most, locating the areas of his body that gave the most pleasure and slowly, tantalizingly leading him to a deliciously long and intense release, while enjoying the sensations and climax that he gave to her. It had been a wonderful, magical night ... except for ... resolutely; he pushed the nightmare out of his mind. He wouldn't think about that right now. Not here, not with her lying next to him, warm and soft. 

Skinner felt Reyes begin to move within his arms and lay still, waiting to see what she would do. Reyes gave a deep sigh and seemed almost to stretch. Then she moved her body backwards, closer to Skinner until she was pressed tightly against him. A single "Mmmmmmmm!" escaped her lips as she settled deeper in his embrace. 

Skinner couldn't help it and gave a chuckle that rumbled through his belly and out his throat and his arm tightened around Reyes. He felt her move slightly and then heard her sleepy voice, "What's so funny?" 

"I was just lying here trying not to move to see what you would do," Skinner replied. 

"What do you mean, what would I do?" 

"I wondered whether your first move would be to pull away or move closer," Skinner answered. 

At that, Reyes did pull back slightly, but only enough to turn over so that she was facing him, but still in his arms. "And did I do what you hoped," she asked, with a faint smile. 

Skinner smiled back, brushing strands of hair from her face, "Oh yes, you certainly did." 

Reyes smile grew even wider as she reached out and touched Skinner's cheek with her hand, "As if you didn't think I'd make a move to get closer," she teased. 

"Well, I didn't really know for sure," Skinner teased back. "So how do you feel this morning?" 

"How do I feel ..." Reyes mused, "Hmm ... let me think about that ... how about ... safe ... comfortable ... satisfied?" 

"I like the sound of that," Skinner murmured. 

Reyes raised her arms and wound them around his neck, "And let's see ... sexy ... cherished ... and happy." 

"Happy?" Skinner asked, pulling her closer. 

"I'm waking up in bed with a wonderful man after having enjoyed hours of passionate lovemaking," Reyes replied as she drew his head towards hers. "How could I not be happy. Only one thing would make me happier ... " 

"And what would that be, Ms. Reyes?" Skinner enquired although he knew very well. 

"This ..." and her lips met his. Their first kiss of the morning, was slow, deep and wet. Her mouth opened to his and their kiss became more passionate and demanding. His hands began to explore her body as he felt the desire rise up in him again, caressing her breasts, belly, and more. Her own hands were equally busy, seeking and finding, sending shivers of delight through him. 

Although he wouldn't have believed it possible after his earlier efforts, Skinner made love to Reyes with even more passion than he had during the night. It seemed to him that it was even more successful, for he was able to prolong his desire longer this morning, bringing her to climax after climax before achieving his own release. 

When it was over they both lay spent, wrapped in each other's arms, listening to the sounds of their own breathing and the desert birds singing outside their window. Reyes was the first to recover and propped herself up on one elbow, looking down on Skinner with a wicked little smile, "You, Walter Skinner, really know how to wake a girl up," she teased. 

"So you enjoyed that wake-up call, Monica?" Skinner enquired. 

"Much more than my radio alarm at home," Reyes giggled. "Now, what shall we do today, lover?" 

**CHAPTER 12**

By the time Skinner and Reyes had showered, dressed and had a quick, light breakfast it was already going on 11 a.m. They had considered various options, such as a visit to the Grand Canyon and Sedona, but decided it was too late in the day for that. "It's really a full day's trip with an early start," the helpful concierge explained. "The same thing with the Horseback Riding day trip. What I would suggest is that you take the Cowboy Train Ride. That will take you up into the Apache territory and you'll have a chance to see quite bit. It will take you an hour to drive up to the Canyon station, and the train ride itself takes about two hours." 

"That sounds perfect," Reyes exclaimed happily. "Walter, why don't you get the directions to the Canyon Station while I bring the car around?" 

When Skinner met her out front, she was sitting in the passenger side of her sporty red Mustang convertible. "Hey, what's up with this," he asked. 

"I drove yesterday because I knew where we were going and you didn't," Reyes explained. "Today I don't know any more than you do and you have the directions. So I'm going to kick back and let you do the driving. Besides ... " she grinned impishly, "I know you're just dying to get behind the wheel of this baby." 

Skinner grinned back, realizing that she was right ... he had longed to drive the powerful red car. Reyes tossed the keys to him and he caught them deftly with his right hand. Lowering his tall frame into the low-slung vehicle, he placed the keys in the ignition, switched it on and carefully drove out of the resort compound. 

Once on the desert freeway, though, he pressed his foot to the accelerator and let the car cut loose. The car handled well, the steering and operating systems responsive to his lightest touch and the sensation of the car tearing up the freeway, wind blowing all around him was exhilarating. 

"Whoo hooo!," he heard Reyes exclaim and turned his head briefly to glance at her. She was wearing her sunglasses but had removed her hat and her hair was whipping around her face. Her cheeks were flushed by the wind and her face wore an excited smile as she turned to Skinner, "Whoa there, Walter! You're a regular speed demon!" 

Skinner laughed in pure exhilaration as he turned his attention back to the road. He felt like a kid again ... a boy of 17 or 18 when the most important things in the world were a fast car and a pretty girl. A time of innocence and freedom with no cares and no worries. A time before Vietnam ... Sharon ... the FBI ... Mulder and Scully. 

He had it all right there at that moment ... the fast car ... the pretty girl. Everything the young Walter Skinner could have wanted. And he appreciated it even more now. He knew that of all of the memories he might take back from his vacation, this moment would be one of the most cherished. This moment when he was zipping through the desert in a rented Mustang convertible, with a laughing Monica Reyes at his side ... a moment when he had his carefree youth back. 

**CHAPTER 13**

As the concierge had said, it took Skinner and Reyes an hour to reach the Canyon Station in Clarksdale. After parking the car, they walked to an old-fashioned ticket turnstile where a smiling young girl greeted them cheerfully. "How can I help you?" 

"We're here for the Cowboy Train Ride," Skinner told her. 

"Well, we have two different schedules," the girl explained. "There's the two hour ride that will take you on the shorter route through the North Verde River Canyon. Then there's a longer route that will take you about four hours." 

"What do you think, Monica?" Skinner turned to his companion. 

"Well, it's 12:20 now," Reyes calculated. "If we take the four-hour, that means we won't get back until 4:30 and still have an hour's drive back to the Phoenician." 

"Actually, it will be 5 p.m. by the time you get back," the girl continued. "The next four-hour tour doesn't go out until 1 p.m." 

"Why don't we take the two-hour tour, Walter," Reyes suggested. "We'll still see plenty and that will get us back to hotel early enough to take a swim and relax before we decide what to do tonight." 

Skinner couldn't help but smile as he realized that she was planning on continuing on with him into the evening. It felt both strange and wonderful to be thinking and planning activities as a couple, instead of by himself. "Okay, then we'll take the two-hour tour," he told the girl 

"And what kind of seating accommodation would you like," the girl asked. "We can put you in one of the First-Class seating cars. It's a plush, air-conditioned car with very luxurious seating. Or you can have seats in one of the open touring cars. The seats are comfortable, and you're right out there with a clear view of everything." 

"Oh Walter, let's do the open car," Reyes exclaimed. "That will be so much more fun than sitting in a closed compartment." 

"I agree, Monica," Skinner replied, turning back to the girl "We'll have two tickets for the open touring car." 

The girl smiled and handed them their tickets, gesturing to the waiting train, "You can board right over there, sir." 

"Thank you, you've been very helpful," Skinner told her as he accepted the tickets. 

The girl smiled at him, "Thank you, sir. I hope that you and your wife enjoy your tour." 

Skinner felt himself blush at those words ... your wife. His blush deepened when Reyes slipped her hand into his and flashed the girl a brilliant smile, "Thank you, I'm sure we will." 

They passed through the turnstile where a porter took their tickets and directed them to the waiting car. The train itself looked like something out of a picture book of old railroads ... at the head of the train was a vintage FP7 diesel locomotive. The next few cars were beautiful antique-looking Pullmans, black with silver trim. The final three cars were the open-air cars. They were charming affairs, polished brown wood with a reddish-fringed canopy providing shade. The seats were more like benches, carved wood with comfortable fringed cushions. Bringing up the rear was a picture-perfect red caboose. 

Skinner and Reyes boarded their car and Skinner guided her to one of the benches. He quickly noted that the benches were perfect for two people who wanted to sit close, but not too close together. She took the seat closest to the outside railing and he sat down beside her next to the aisle. A smiling attendant passed through and announced "We'll be pulling out in five minutes." 

Reyes turned towards Skinner and looked up at him, laughing, "Well, your blush has finally faded." 

Skinner pretended that he didn't know what she meant, "Blush, what blush?" 

"That blush you got when the girl called me your wife," she replied. 

"Oh, that one," he responded, and to his embarrassment, he found that he was blushing again. 

"Oh no, not again," Reyes giggled. "Walter, what is it about me being called your wife that's making you blush?" 

Skinner looked down at his hands for a moment, then looked back up at her, his face suddenly serious. "Maybe it's because I'm old enough to be your father," he told her frankly. 

Reyes stopped giggling and her eyes met his with warm understanding and affection. Once again she reached for his hand and held it tightly in her own, "But you're not my father, Walter," she replied seriously. "And I could never think of you as a father." 

"Then just what am I to you?" Skinner asked, suddenly realizing that he needed to hear this, needed to know how she viewed him, even though he was picking a hell of a time and place to ask. 

But Reyes didn't appear bothered by the question. "You are a kind, decent, gentle, strong, and passionate man," she replied. "And to me, right now, you are my friend and my lover ... and the one man that I want to spend the rest of this vacation with." 

Skinner was torn by feelings that he couldn't completely explain ... pride and joy at her words and the knowledge that this lovely young woman was saying them to him. But also a sense of shame that he needed ... truly needed ... to hear those words from her. 

Suddenly, there was a jerk and the train began to move forward. Reyes eyes began to sparkle with excitement as the train began to move and she pressed closer to him on the bench, "Here we go! Oh, Walter, this is going to be so exciting!" 

Her excitement and enthusiasm was contagious and Skinner began to feel a sense of anticipation as the journey began. Settling in, he placed his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close as they both watched the train station disappear as the train began to move toward the mountain ridge ahead. 

Before long, it seemed to Skinner as if he had been transported to another time. He realized as the train entered into the mountain ridge that he was making the same journey that settlers and Indians had made more than a century before. 

As the train began to twist and turn through the various mountain passes on into the canyon, Skinner was struck by the beauty and majesty of the towering red rocks and crimson cliffs. As the train passed through the railroad trestles, he became aware that years before, pioneers, ranchers and miners had passed through those same trestles. He felt what he was certain was the same sense of awe and wonder that they had felt as they passed through into the wild beauty of this country. 

The train continued to roll, and they came upon an old settlement; the ruins of what had once been a thriving community of Sinagua Indians. As the train slowed slightly to allow passengers a clear view, he became aware that Reyes was trembling beside him. He looked over at her and saw a look of sadness upon her face and tears glistening in her eyes. "Monica, what's wrong," he asked, concerned. 

Reyes continued to look out at the ruins, the sadness becoming more intense. "I can feel them all around us, the spirits of the people who used to live here," she said softly. "Once this place was full of vital, strong men who hunted and fished. And women who raised their children and kept their homes. It was a place filled with people who lived and loved and were one with the land. And now ... now, this is all that's left. It's so sad." 

Reyes turned to him then and he could see that two tears had escaped from her eyes and were slowly rolling down her cheeks, "I know you must think I'm silly ..." she whispered. 

Skinner reached out and brushed away her tears with his hand, then pulled her closer to him, holding her comfortingly. "No, I don't think you're silly at all," he told her gently. "It is sad to think that a civilization that was once here is gone. And I think you have a very large, very warm heart that enables you to feel that sadness so deeply." 

Reyes snuggled closer to him, grateful for the comfort he provided. He kissed the top of her head and then spied something in the grass as the train passed to the end of the encampment. "Monica, look ..." 

Reyes lifted her head and her eyes followed his pointing finger to see a colony of deer standing at the edge of the ruins. Bucks, does and fawns, a good 15-20 deer by the looks of it. "You see, Monica," Skinner told her. "It's not all dead here. There is still life in this place." 

Reyes looked up at him with shining eyes and the smile on her face warmed his heart. "Oh yes, there is," she exclaimed. "Thank you for understanding, Walter." She turned back to watch the deer, an almost childlike joy on her face, "Oh God, they're so beautiful!" 

As the train continued to roll they passed through the canyon and viewed the mountain lakes and streams. They saw the various types of plants, flowers and small wildlife that inhabited the canyon. They were enchanted by the blue herons and some of the other wild birds that flew through the air and sang their sweet songs in the canyon, filling it with music. They laughed at the antics of the prairie dogs and actually spied a lone coyote on one of the cliffs. 

Then, there came a very special moment. Soaring over the river, dipping majestically as it flew toward the train, was a bald eagle. As it flew towards them, letting out a scream, Skinner felt a deep sense of wonder and a surge of pride. He was watching an eagle, a symbol of American freedom, one of the symbols he had been willing to fight and die for years ago. He stood up and leaned against the railing, watching as the eagle circled, around and then flew straight toward the train. Only a few yards away it dipped, so that it flew almost eye level with Skinner, just a few yards out. It seemed to Skinner as though the eagle's eyes met his own, and though he knew this wasn't possible, he felt a connection with the great bird. Unconsciously he straightened and stood at attention, catching his breath at the sight. Then, as if in salute, the eagle dipped its wings before it once again soared upward, emitting a piercing cry as it flew back toward the river. 

Skinner slowly released the breath he had been holding and sat back down on the bench next to Reyes. She was looking at him with a proud, fond smile and she slipped her hand into his. His fingers returned her clasp as he spoke, "That was an incredible sight, Monica." 

"Yes it was," Reyes agreed. "It was as though you and the eagle were speaking to each other, without words." 

"That's how it felt," Skinner exclaimed, astonished at her perceptions. "I felt ... I can't quite explain it ... but I felt a connection, as though it was seeking me out." 

"Perhaps it was," Reyes said seriously. "Many of the Indian tribes believe that people can share a spiritual connection with the animals of the earth, and that connection draws them to each other." She paused for a moment and gazed at his face searchingly, checking to see his reaction. "I believe you have the spirit of an eagle, Walter," she continued. "Proud, strong and brave. So perhaps the eagle was seeking you out ... it saw in you its spiritual brother." 

Skinner looked back off into the distance, his eyes following the path that the eagle had taken. Then he looked back at Reyes, squeezing her hand even tighter, "I don't know about that," he said quietly. "But I do know that it was a moment I'll never forget. And I am glad that you were here to share it with me." 

"So am I, Walter," Reyes repeated, squeezing his hand in return. "So am I." 

**CHAPTER 14**

"That's one Long Island Iced Tea and one screwdriver," the waiter said as he placed their drinks in front of them. 

Skinner and Reyes were seated at one of the tables at the Mother of Pearl pool, having enjoyed a refreshing swim in opulent surroundings that resembled one of the ancient Roman baths. Now they were lounging in the warm sunshine, perfectly content and relaxed in each other's company. 

"So any ideas on what you would like to do tonight," Skinner asked. 

Reyes pondered the question for a moment as she sipped at her Long Island Iced Tea. "Well, let's see ... we could go to some of the dance clubs in Phoenix," she proposed. 

"That's one possibility," Skinner agreed. 

"Or ... we could go over to the Valley View Mall and shop till we drop," was Reyes next suggestion. 

Skinner did his best to hide his dismay at that suggestion, "Well, if that's what you really want ..." he said reluctantly, and then he saw the wicked gleam in Reyes' eyes and grinned, realizing that she was pulling his leg. "Okay, stop that and tell me what you'd really like to do." 

"You mean besides get you back in bed and make wild, mad, passionate love to you?" she queried archly. 

"Oh, I'm sure I can arrange that particular activity for later on tonight," Skinner countered, finding to his surprise that he enjoyed playing this game with her. "But isn't there something you'd like to do before we get down to late night fun and games?" 

"Okay, I'll tell you what I'd really like to do, but you may think it's a bit ... well, teenager-ish," Reyes replied. 

"Try me," Skinner prompted. 

"There's this drive-in restaurant on Main Street ... the Desert Rose," Reyes answered, her eyes sparkling eagerly. "They have the best burgers in the world and their malteds are heavenly. I'd like to go there for dinner. And then ... I'd like to see a movie." 

"I'll say this for you Monica, you are full of surprises," Skinner said, shaking his head. "I offer you your choice of anything that you want to do and you choose a burger and a movie. It sounds almost like a first date." 

"Exactly!" Reyes exclaimed. "Oh, I know it really isn't a FIRST date ... but that's what I want to share with you tonight. An old-fashioned date ... just like a couple of kids. What do you say?" 

Skinner thought about it for a moment, "I say I think I'd love to have an old-fashioned date with you, Monica," he replied. "Just one question though ... who gets to pick the movie?" 

"I do, of course," Reyes replied. "After all, I asked you for the date, so I get to pick the movie." 

"Oh no ..." Skinner groaned. "Chick flick, right!" 

Reyes stuck her tongue out at him, then ducked as he threw a balled-up napkin at her. "Oh you think you know me so well, don't you?" she queried. "It would serve you right if I did make you take me to a chick flick. I'm sure I could find a theater playing something like 'Chocolat,' 'House of Mirth,' or 'Return to Me.' Or maybe a revival house where we could see something like 'Dark Victory' or 'Camille'." 

Skinner groaned again but decided not to say anything more since he didn't want to tempt her to make good on that threat. "Actually, there is a theatre a few miles north of the Desert Rose that specializes in revivals," Reyes continued. "I checked and they're running 'High Noon' this week. I'd love to see that movie." 

"'High Noon?'" Skinner asked. "Isn't that a Western?" 

"It sure is," Reyes answered, "One of the best, with Gary Cooper and Grace Kelly. It's also one of my favorites." 

"I hate to admit this," Skinner told her, "But I've never seen it." 

"You're kidding," Reyes exclaimed. "I can't believe you've never seen that movie. That settles it then. We're going to see 'High Noon.' I can't imagine a better way to spend the evening then sitting in a dark theater, seeing one of my favorite movies on a big screen and sharing it with you." 

Skinner took a long pull at his screwdriver, draining the glass and then he stood up, "If that's the case Monica, I suggest we head on back to our rooms," he told her. "I have to get ready for a hot date." 

**CHAPTER 15**

"Wait a-long ... wait a-lo-on-ng!" 

The last lines and notes of the closing theme played as the lights slowly came up in the darkened movie theater. Reyes turned to Skinner with an eager smile on her face, "Well, what did you think?" 

"I think that was one of the best movies I've ever seen," Skinner replied enthusiastically. "I can't believe that movie is ... what ... nearly 50 years old? It seems like it could have been made this year." 

"I know," Reyes replied as she gathered her straw bag and stood up. "The director was really ahead of his time. The way they set that up with those camera angles ... the whole story taking place in real time. It was very revolutionary for the 1950s." 

Skinner also rose and they slipped out of the row of seats and walked back up the aisle into the lobby of the old-fashioned movie palace. "That's true, but that's not what I meant," Skinner continued as he threw the empty popcorn container and soda pop cup into the trashcan. "I was thinking of the whole story. One man standing up for what he believes in, no matter what the cost. Even if he has to do it alone." 

As they walked out of the theater into the warm desert night, Reyes took Skinner's arm and looked up at him. "That is true, the whole story is timeless," she agreed. "And Gary Cooper was perfect for the part. Played it as if he believed every word." 

"I know, he reminds me of every image I ever had of the true western hero, the "real" American ideal," Skinner replied. As they walked along to the car, he was musing silently for a moment, trying to decide whether he should speak and tell her what was on his mind. "You may think this is strange Monica, but do you know who I was thinking of all during that movie?" 

"Who?" she asked, turning her dark eyes on him. 

"Mulder," Skinner answered, finding it difficult to articulate the man's name. "It reminded me of him, one man standing alone. Although at the end, Will Kane wasn't completely alone ... he had his bride standing beside him, despite her misgivings." 

"And you see ... who ... Agent Scully ... as the bride," Reyes countered as they approached the car. 

Skinner opened the door for her and held it as she slid into her seat, then walked around to his side. "Yes ... Scully was always skeptical and rarely agreed with Mulder," Skinner continued. "But when it came right down to it, when things got rough she always stood by him." 

He lowered himself into the car and slipped the keys into the ignition. As he was about to turn the key, Reyes laid a hand on his arm and he turned his head to look at her. Her eyes were full of warmth, "Actually, Walter, I don't think of Mulder when I think of Will Kane," she said softly. "I think of you." 

"Of me?" Skinner was truly surprised at her words. "Why me, Monica? I'm certainly no hero." 

"Will Kane didn't think he was a hero either," Reyes reminded him. "He was a simple, decent man standing up for what he believed in. He was willing to go the distance, even sacrifice his own life, to defend the town that was entrusted to his care, even if he had to do it alone." She paused for a moment, then continued. "That's just like you with Mulder and Scully. You're willing to do anything to protect and defend them, even if you have to do it alone." 

Skinner felt a wave of bitterness and regret at her words, and he twisted his head around so he couldn't look in her face as he spoke, "That didn't help either of them very much," he muttered. 

Reyes reached up and laid her hand along his face, turning him back towards her. He saw a face filled with compassion and understanding. "Don't be too sure of that, Walter," she said quietly. "They both knew you were in their corner. And they both knew that you would go the distance for them. That's what really counts ... and that will help Agent Scully in the days ahead. She'll know she can lean on you." 

Skinner felt gratitude for her words and her understanding. He leaned over and gently kissed her, feeling his bitterness ease with the taste and feel of her warm lips. He pulled back and watched her slow smile cross her face. "Why don't we go back to the hotel, Walter?" she asked, an unmistakable invitation in her eyes. 

Skinner smiled back, "My thoughts exactly, Monica." He turned the key in the ignition, applied his foot to the accelerator, and they were off in the darkness, leaving the glittering lights of the theater behind them. 

**CHAPTER 16**

They were barely in the door of his suite when Reyes turned playfully aggressive, grabbing his hand and pulling him into the bedroom. "Just a minute, Monica ..." he remonstrated, "Don't you want a drink ... or something ..." "Oh, I want something all right!" Reyes giggled, pulling him along with one hand while with the other she was ripping at the buttons of her blouse. Once in the bedroom, she quickly removed the rest of her clothes while Skinner removed his boots and socks, and then looking at him lasciviously. She made a little clucking sound, "Tsk! Tsk! Walter, you look terribly uncomfortable in all those clothes," she declared as she approached him. Before he knew what was happening, she had torn off his denim shirt and the t-shirt underneath and then was in his arms, her mouth pressed to his. 

Skinner wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tighter to him. As her tongue explored his mouth, he began to feel the first sensations of arousal and he responded to her, his mouth opening wider and his own tongue tasting the inside of her sweet mouth. Throughout the kiss, Reyes' hands had been very busy, unbuckling the belt around his waist, unbuttoning the top button of his jeans and pushing the zipper down. Then, still kissing him deeply, she hooked her fingers underneath the waistband and pulled hard, until his jeans and his boxers came down over his hips and dropped to the floor around his ankles. Reyes broke the kiss then, stepping back just enough to give Skinner room to step out of his fallen garments. She eyed him speculatively, hungrily as he stepped back again, the backs of his legs pressed up against the bed. "Monica, what ..." he started to say before she gave him a push that caused him to lose his balance and fall back upon the bed. Then she was on top of him, smiling wickedly. "Monica, what is this all about," he asked as he tried to sit up. 

Reyes pushed him back on the bed so his head was resting on the pillow, "Uh uh," she shook her head, her dark eyes gleaming and her dark curls dancing about her face. "Let me do the work right now. Your turn comes later." 

Time lost all meaning as Skinner was caught up in a world where only sensation mattered. Was it minutes or was it hours ... Skinner would never know as he became lost in the pleasure Reyes was giving him. She fell upon his body like a wildcat, seemingly intent on devouring it. Her clutching, exploring fingers and her warm, wet, greedy mouth were everywhere, scorching him, burning him, causing his desire to rise to a fever pitch. Time after time she brought him to the brink of release, then pulled back, allowing the fever to cool a little before once again beginning the slow, hot, sweet torture. At last, when he could stand no more, she gripped him tightly and rolled them both over so that he was on top of her. He looked down into her face and saw that her eyes were glazed, smoky with a need for release that more than matched his. "Now," she gasped. "Walter, it's your turn now!" 

Skinner was seized with a passion stronger than he had ever known as he took her forcefully, nearly driving the breath out of her body. He felt Reyes clutch him tightly, her voice urging him on. He heard her scream his name, felt her nails rake into his back and then the wave washed over him and he found himself involuntarily crying out as he achieved the most powerful climax he had ever known. 

Skinner fell off her then and they both lay apart for a moment, gasping desperately for breath. Then Reyes moved in close and the wild cat became a tame, cuddly kitten as she laid her head upon his chest. Skinner's arms closed over her and she gave a contented sigh before she drifted off to sleep. Skinner lay quietly holding her, savoring this quiet moment after the tumult that had just passed. His body began to feel weightless, his mind began to drift aimlessly, his eyes closed and, breathing deeply, he slipped into sleep, his last conscious sensation the subtle scent of the sleeping woman he held in his arms. 

**CHAPTER 17**

The first thing he was aware of was the smell. That musty smell of wet ground and jungle vegetation mixed with the smell of smoke, burning oil and gasoline, gunpowder ... a smell that seeped through his nose and mouth, through the very pores of his skin, and burned into his brain. 

He was walking through the Vietnam jungle, moving slowly, carefully. His eyes traveled up and down, side to side, ever alert for the presence of the enemy. He was alone and could not remember why or how he came to be separated from his men. He wasn't sure exactly where he was going. All he knew was that he had to keep moving. 

He continued to walk, pushing aside brush and vines as he trudged up a slope. As he came over its crest and looked down into the clearing beneath, he halted and drew in his breath sharply at a sight so gruesome it nearly brought him to his knees with nausea. 

Stretched out before him were his men, all of them dead. Some were whole, some dismembered and arms, legs, heads and torsos were scattered across the clearing. Breathing heavily, he moved slowly down and began to pick his way through the mass of dead human flesh. How had this happened? When? Why? And why was he still alive when his men were dead. 

"It's your fault, you know," a familiar voice said behind him. Skinner turned to see Fox Mulder standing behind him. Mulder looked strange; his skin pale and the wounds on his face clearly evident. His eyes were the only thing that seemed alive as they blazed with anger and accusation. 

"What do you mean, my fault?" Skinner asked, his voice shaking with emotion. 

"Your fault they're dead," Mulder replied. "Look around you ... every one of these people owes their death to you in one form or another. All you see are your 'men'. Take a closer look." 

Skinner obeyed and saw that Mulder was right. It wasn't just his men, his soldiers lying there. There were the figures of the enemy: men, women, and even a few children. As he looked through the mass of bodies there were still others ... some he recognized, some he did not. Sickened at the sight, he turned back to face Mulder. "You're wrong," he intoned, "I didn't kill all of these people." 

"Oh, but you did," Mulder replied. "There are some that you killed directly ... with your own guns and bombs. With others ... like that family over there ..." Mulder gestured at the bodies of an elderly couple, a younger woman, and two young children. "You gave the orders that caused their deaths." 

"No ..." Skinner shook his head in denial. 

"And there are others ... cases that you failed to solve, criminals you failed to capture," Mulder continued. "And then ... and then there's me!" 

"Mulder, I ..." 

"You're the reason I'm dead," Mulder continued, his voice rising, harsh with bitterness and anger. "You left me behind ... left me to die!" 

"No, Mulder, I looked for you," Skinner cried, his voice breaking. "You disappeared ... I looked ... I called for you but you were nowhere to be found. And then I searched ... we searched, Scully and I, for months, trying to find you ..." 

"You lost me," Mulder continued, practically spitting the words out. "You abandoned me. You are the reason that Scully is alone! You are the reason why my child will never know me. You are the reason I'm dead!" 

"No!" Skinner dropped to his knees and shut his eyes, brought to the ground by the weight of the accusations and his own sense of guilt. 

"You are! You killed all of these people ... and you killed me!" Mulder pressed on relentlessly. "You are a killer, Walter Skinner ... a killer ..." 

"No," Skinner murmured as he buried his face in his hands. Then he dropped his hands, raised his head and looked to the sky as one word burst forth in a long, anguished cry, "Noooooooooo!" 

"Nooooooo!" the cry echoed through the room, awakening Skinner from sleep. He was sitting bolt upright in the bed, drenched with sweat, his throat aching and raw. He fought for breath as he realized that the crying voice that had awakened him had been his own. 

"My God, Walter, what is it? What's wrong?" 

It took Skinner a few moments before he could answer, shaken as he was from the effects of the dream. When he had finally caught his breath, he replied, "Nothing," 

He felt Reyes move beside him and a moment later the room was illuminated by the soft light of the bedside lamp. She turned to face him and he could see the concern in her eyes that deepened to complete worry as she took in his heavily panting chest, his sweat-soaked body and his anguished expression. "Walter, don't tell me it's nothing," she insisted. "You look like hell. And that scream of yours ..." 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," Skinner began, hoping to divert her. 

"That's not the point, Walter," Reyes continued. "Something is wrong." 

"It was just a bad dream, a nightmare, that's all." Skinner said firmly, hoping by his tone to convey the message that he didn't want to talk about it. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, reaching for the terrycloth robe that lay at the foot of the bed, slipping it on. He walked into the bathroom and turned on the water, grabbing a washcloth and soaking it in cool water. He quickly washed the sweat from his chest, neck and face, splashing still more cold water on his face. 

He then went back into the bedroom, and was surprised to see that the bed was empty. "Monica?" he called softly. When he received no answer, he noticed that a light was on the living room. He wandered out of the bedroom and padded down the hallway to the spacious living room. He saw Reyes standing at the bar area, her back to him. "Monica," he called again. 

Reyes turned and he saw that she had a brandy snifter in her hand, a small amount of amber fluid in the glass. "Here," she said as she held out the snifter. "I think you need this." 

Skinner took the glass from Reyes, and she turned and picked up another glass, also partially full, from the bar. She moved gracefully to the couch and seated herself, pulling her legs up underneath her. Skinner joined her on the couch, sitting at the opposite end, and he took a sip of the brandy, savoring the sensation as it burned its way down his throat, the warmth calming the tense beating of his heart. "Thanks, Monica," he told her as he raised the glass to his lips and took another sip. "You're right, this is what I needed." 

Reyes lifted her glass to her lips and sipped her brandy thoughtfully. "I think you need more than a brandy, Walter," she said slowly. 

"I told you, I'm fine," Skinner insisted, beginning to feel a slight irritation growing. 

"I don't buy that," Reyes replied. "That was no ordinary nightmare you had tonight, judging from your reaction. Your scream ... the look on your face ... it's clear that it was no ordinary dream." 

"Look, Monica, everyone has nightmares from time-to-time," Skinner tried to explain patiently. "It's not unusual ..." 

"Not unusual to have a dream that makes you terrified," Reyes pushed, the expression on her face skeptical. "And you had a nightmare last night ... and if I'm not mistaken you had one in the car yesterday when we were driving back into town, didn't you?" 

Skinner was silent, torn between wanting to tell her she was wrong and his conscience, which kept him from telling such an out-and-out lie. Instead, he looked at her pleadingly, hoping that through his eyes he would convey the message to her to let it go. 

However, Reyes had no intention of dropping the subject. She took his silence for assent and pressed her point, "Walter, if you'd just talk about what's wrong, maybe I could help," she offered. 

Skinner clenched his teeth, his irritation rising and beginning to cross the threshold into anger, "I told you it was nothing, Monica," he said tightly, trying to keep his voice under control. 

"Walter, don't tell me that, I know there's something wrong," Reyes insisted. "Please, let me help." 

Then something inside Skinner snapped. Impelled by a force he could not control, he leaped from the couch and turned to face her, "Monica, I said there's nothing wrong," he shouted, fury in his face and his voice. "God damn it, let it go!" 

Reyes eyes met his, her concern changing to worry, "Walter ...I ..." 

"I SAID LET IT GO!!!" Skinner shouted back at her, and then, driven by anger and frustration, he drew back his arm and hurled the empty brandy glass across the room, where it hit the wall and shattered into several tiny pieces. 

He saw Reyes flinch at the sound of the glass hitting the wall and breaking. Saw the worry on her face change to a mixture of fear and anger as she stood up to face him, her voice shaking, "Let it go!" she repeated, practically spitting the words at him. "Sure, I'll let it go. I'll let the whole damn thing go!" And with those words she turned and strode down the hall and back to the bedroom. 

Skinner followed her back into the bedroom to see her throw off the robe and pull on her clothes, bra and panties first, "Monica, what are you doing?" he asked. 

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Reyes replied as she stepped into her jeans and pulled them up. "You want me to let it go ...right?" 

"Monica, that doesn't mean you have to leave ..." 

"Oh yes it does," Reyes replied as she reached for her t-shirt and pulled it over her head. "I can't stay here and watch you continue to lie to yourself. And I sure as hell am not going to take you lying to me." 

"I'm not lying," Skinner protested. 

"The hell you're not," Reyes shot back, her voice filled with anger. "There's something wrong, Walter, only you don't want to admit it. Whatever it is it's eating you up inside. Well, I'm sorry, I don't want to watch that happen, so I'm doing exactly what you want me to do ... I'm letting it go!" As she talked, Reyes gathered her things and stuffed them into her oversized bag and then she made her way back out into the living room. 

It began to sink in to Skinner that she was leaving; she was actually leaving! He quickly followed her out to the living room and caught up with her at the door. As she reached for the knob, he quickly grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around to face him, "Monica, please listen to me ... " 

She stood in his grasp, looking up at him, the fury and anger still there in her eyes, but also there was sorrow and pity. Looking down at her, Skinner knew how much he wanted her to stay, how much he needed her right now. "Monica, please ... don't go ..." 

It was only a few seconds that passed, but to Skinner it seemed like hours as Reyes stood toe-to-toe with him, his arms grasping her shoulders tightly as he thought desperately to himself, please understand Monica, please know what it cost me to say that ... 

Reyes looked up at him and raised her hand to gently touch his cheek, a sad little smile on her face "Walter, I don't want to go," she said softly. "But how can I stay when it's evident that you don't trust me ..." 

"What do you mean, I don't trust you?" Skinner demanded, her words shocking him. "When have I said I don't trust you?" 

"It's not what you say, Walter, it's what you're not saying," Reyes continued. "Something is obviously wrong with you, but you won't talk to me about it. That tells me you don't trust me." 

As Skinner regarded the young woman in his grasp, looking up at him so earnestly, he saw the hurt and sadness that was lying behind the anger. "Monica, it's not a question of trust ..." 

"Then what is it?" Reyes asked gently. "If it's not a question of trust, why can't you tell me what's wrong?" 

Skinner released her shoulders and reached up to cover her hand, which was still resting on his cheek, with his own. As he looked into her eyes he struggled with himself, the wish ... the desire ... the need to share with her the thoughts that had been tormenting him wrestling with the conditioning that commanded he keep these thoughts and emotions bottled up inside, hidden from anyone's view. 

Then, he squeezed her hand as he removed it from his cheek. Silently, he turned from Reyes and moved back to the bar area. Reyes stood, equally silent, and watched as he poured himself another brandy, then made his way back to the couch. He sat down slowly, heavily, as if in an instant the years had caught up with him. Then he looked up at Reyes and wordlessly, held out his hand to her. 

Reyes placed her oversize bag on the club chair and went to him then, grasping his outstretched hand and seating herself opposite him on the edge of the teakwood coffee table. She raised his hand to her lips and kissed it softly, her lips brushing against the roughened skin lightly. Then she lowered it so that his hand was resting on her thigh, but was still clasped in hers. "Walter, please talk to me," she pleaded. "Tell me what's wrong." 

Skinner was silent for a moment as he had one last, fierce battle with himself. Then he raised the brandy glass to his lips, took a long swallow, and set the glass aside before he allowed his eyes to meet hers as he spoke one single word. "Mulder." 

"Mulder?" Reyes repeated, her eyes reflecting confusion. "What about Mulder?" 

"I've been having these dreams ... nightmares actually ... about Mulder," Skinner continued, "Every night ... almost every time I sleep at all, really." 

"Tell me about them," Reyes urged. 

"At first the dreams were just memories, like I was reliving everything that happened," Skinner said quietly as he allowed his mind to drift back to the dreams and the events. "I had dreams about the night he disappeared in Oregon, the night that I lost him. Then dreams about finding him ... his body. I dream about telling Scully about his death ... about everything that happened ... the I.D. process, the funeral, everything." 

Reyes reached for the brandy glass and handed it back to Skinner. He took another long swallow, hoping that it would help give him the endurance to continue. When he set the glass aside, Reyes took his other hand so that she was now holding both tightly. "There's more, isn't there?" she prompted. 

Skinner took a deep breath and tried to prepare himself to continue. "Yes, there's more, Monica. I've had other dreams ... dreams of things that I didn't see ... of things that I imagine. The things that were done to Mulder before we found him. I see him undergoing ... unspeakable, unimaginable tortures," Skinner shut his eyes as the images flashed into his mind, scenes that he had never seen but had played out in his imagination time and time again starting the night that Fox Mulder had disappeared. "Things that would never have happened if I had done my job and kept him safe." 

He felt Reyes hands grip his even more tightly and opened his eyes to see her face filled with tenderness and compassion. "Tonight ... tonight's dream was the worst yet," he whispered. "Bodies ... bodies everywhere ... the bodies of people whose deaths I was responsible for. There were so many, Monica. Some deserved death, yes, but there were so many that were innocent. And then there was Mulder ... telling me it was my fault they were all dead," he paused, fighting for control, but his voice was husky with repressed emotion. "Mulder told me it was my fault that he was dead." 

"No, Walter," Reyes said softly, shaking her head, "No, it's not your fault." 

"Yes, it is Monica," Skinner couldn't contain himself anymore and the words burst out of him, even as he clutched at her hands tightly, like a child seeking comfort. "It is my fault he's dead. I was supposed to watch out for him that night in Oregon. Scully asked me to go with him and to keep him safe. We knew that he was a target and in particular danger. But I didn't protect him. I let myself get distracted and I failed him, as I've failed so many others so many times. I failed to protect him. And then I failed to find him in time, even after I promised Scully that I would. Mulder is dead, Scully is alone ... and there's a child that is coming into the world that will never know its father ... all because I failed." 

"You listen to me, Walter Skinner," Reyes said sharply. "It's not your fault that Mulder is dead. I was with you in Montana, remember? No one could have done more or tried harder to find him alive. You gave it everything you had." 

"By then it was too late," Skinner replied bitterly. "If I had protected him the way I was supposed to in Oregon ..." 

"I know you well enough to know that you tried," Reyes countered, her voice warm and comforting. "I've also read enough about Fox Mulder to know that once he had an idea or a lead nothing in heaven or hell was going to stop him from following up. Walter, I wasn't there in Oregon that night, but I'm sure that whatever happened to Mulder, however he was captured, he was willing, maybe even eager to go. That is why he didn't call out to you. Walter, you couldn't protect someone who didn't want to be protected." 

"You don't understand ..." Skinner began. 

"I do understand, Walter," Reyes replied. "You feel that you failed Mulder and Scully, and I can understand that better than you know. I've had those feelings too. On other cases ... and on this one. Remember, I was there too when we found Mulder's body. I had ... John and I had ... such hopes that we would find him alive. To find him dead was like a body blow to both of us. You aren't the only one who feels as if he failed." Reyes paused for a moment and when she continued, her voice was soft and gentle, "But that isn't all, is it Walter?" 

"What do you mean," Skinner asked her. 

It seemed to him as if Reyes' eyes were boring right into his soul, seeing and reading every thought and emotion. "You miss Mulder," Reyes said quietly. "He wasn't just another agent to you ...and neither is Scully. You have very strong feelings for both of them, and they are more than just the feelings of a superior for the agents under his command. You care very deeply about both of them. And that is why this has affected you so much." Reyes released his hands so that she could cup his face, one hand on either cheek, her touch warm and comforting. "Because of your feelings for him, you haven't really accepted Mulder's death, Walter." 

"I have accepted his death," Skinner protested. "Believe me, I have. I know he's gone." 

"Yes, you know it in your head, Walter," Reyes said gently. "But you haven't accepted it in your heart. You haven't let yourself grieve for Mulder. You haven't mourned his loss." 

"It's not my loss," Skinner argued. "It's Scully's loss ... and I need to be ... I have to be strong for her. I have to make it up to her ... and to their child." 

"Walter, you can't help Scully until you help yourself," Reyes told him. "You're having these nightmares because you won't deal with your own feelings of loss. You have to do that. Mulder was a part of your life too, a big part." 

Reyes rose from the coffee table and seated herself on the couch, next to Skinner. She rested her hand lightly on his arm. "Please Walter, you owe this to Mulder, and more important you owe this to yourself. Let yourself grieve for Mulder. Let yourself go." 

Skinner sat still for a moment as the various emotions raged within him, feeling the tears come to his eyes and struggling to control them. He looked away from Reyes, then felt her hand on his face and submitted to her as she pulled his face back around so they were once again eye to eye. Her eyes were wet with unshed tears of her own, and the look on her face was tender and loving. "Please, Walter ..." she whispered. 

With a low moan, he collapsed into her arms, his head resting upon her breast. He felt her arms close tightly, protectively around him, providing a warming, welcoming shelter. He heard her voice whisper "It's okay, Walter. I'm here. Let it go." He gave into the waves of anguish and grief that overtook him and sobbed in Monica Reyes' arms like a brokenhearted child. 

**CHAPTER 18**

Skinner blinked as the morning sunlight streamed into the bedroom, awakening him from a deep, dreamless sleep. As he stretched in the bed, he recalled the events of the previous night. 

Monica Reyes had held and comforted him as he sobbed for what seemed like hours, making soothing noises as she stroked the back of his head and neck. He had held onto her tightly, almost afraid to let her go, feeling that she was the one certain thing in his life at that moment. 

Finally, when the storm of grief had passed, he lifted his head from her breast, half ashamed of his outburst and half fearing that he would see contempt in her eyes. But instead, he saw overwhelming compassion and understanding there as she looked at him. Wordlessly, she had reached up and pulled his head down to hers so that their lips met. This kiss was unlike any other that they had shared. There was no passion this time, no eroticism, but a shared sweetness, warmth and tenderness. 

Then, hand in hand, still silent they returned to the bedroom. Once in bed, Reyes had turned to him and threw one arm over his chest, laying her head just over his heart. He had wrapped his arms tightly around her, pulling her as close as he possibly could before he slipped into a sleep of utter exhaustion. 

He stretched and his hand touched an empty pillow at his side. He quickly realized that he was alone in the bed. Skinner sat up quickly, his heart racing as he was hit with the sudden fear that Reyes may have left him. "Monica!" he called out. "Monica, are you here?" 

From down the hallway, he heard her voice call out to him, "I'm out on the terrace, Walter." Relief flooded him as he climbed out of the bed and reached for his robe. Tying the sash, he padded down the hall and into the living room. The double doors were open, letting in the still-cool and fresh early morning air. 

Through the double doors, he could see Reyes, standing at the railing of the terrace and looking out at the mountains in the distance. Skinner walked through the doors and came up behind Reyes, slipping his arms around her and pulling her back against him. She didn't resist him, but leaned back against him so that his chin rested on the top of her head. "I woke up early so I thought I'd come out here and watch the sunrise," she explained. "Seeing the sun come up over the mountains is breathtakingly beautiful." 

Skinner looked out and saw the various colors that the sun brought out: the clear blue of the sky over the mountain peaks, the white of the tops giving way to blues and greens and then, further down the base of the mountain, the reds and browns of the desert clay and soil. "You're right," he replied. "It is beautiful. Almost as beautiful as you." 

Reyes turned in his embrace so that he could see her face and wrapped her arms around him. "Monica ... about last night ..." he began. 

He thought he saw a frown gathering in her eyes and she lifted her hand and placed a finger on his lips as though to stop his flow of words, "Walter, you don't have to explain anything," she said softly. 

Skinner covered her hand with his own, pulling it a slight distance away so that he could speak again. "I was just going to say, thank you," he told her quietly. "Thank you for being there ..." he paused and pulled her hand back to his lips, brushing them lightly against the soft palm. "And thank you for staying." 

The frown in Reyes eyes disappeared and she smiled at him tenderly before pulling him close to her and burying her face in his chest. "There's no place else I would rather be, Walter," she murmured, her voice slightly muffled by the folds of his robe. 

**CHAPTER 18**

Skinner and Reyes were seated casually on a blanket on the hard ground near the Aqua Fria River. Since they had such an early start on the day, they had decided to rent two horses for the trail ride up through the Cold Water Canyon. Skinner had learned to ride long ago, and by now he had stopped being surprised at Reyes' impressive list of heretofore-unknown talents. She had mounted her horse, a spirited chestnut filly, and sat up straight, tall and graceful, obviously at ease in the saddle. At Skinner's questioning look, she had smiled and simply said, "Remember, I was raised on a ranchero outside of Mexico City ... I got on my first horse while I was still in diapers." 

Armed with a map of the area and saddlebags well packed with provisions, the two had set off on the trail ride. Throughout the morning they talked very little, simply enjoying the sights, totally at ease in each other's company. Skinner found his imagination captured by the desert and mountain scenery; the rich blends of reds, browns and golds of the soil and rocks, livened by the occasional green of the cacti or palms. He delighted in some of the unexpected surprises, such as the moment when a little prairie dog popped up out of its hole, it's little nose twitching and it's eyes brightly questioning as it viewed the pair on horseback before it disappeared back into its den. 

As the noon hour approached, they arrived at the banks of the Aqua Fria River, a body of clear, aqua blue water that was deserving of its name. The cool water rushed through the riverbed downstream to where it swirled in a cascade of rapids. Skinner pulled up his horse near the riverbank and turned to Reyes, "I'm getting kind of hungry. Think this is a good place to stop for our lunch?" 

"You read my mind," Reyes replied, quickly dismounting. Skinner followed suit and after removing the saddlebags they took their horses down to the riverbank to allow them to drink from the cold, sweet water. Then they tied the horses to a palm tree, located a smooth spot on the ground and spread their thick, heavy blanket. 

Now, comfortably full after a hearty meal, they relaxed for a while on the blanket, simply enjoying the sights and sounds of the riverbank around them. Skinner had stretched out on the blanket to his full length, his legs reaching onto the uncovered ground. Reyes sat up straight, her legs drawn up and her arms clasped around her knees. She turned her head to look at Skinner and then spoke quietly, "Tell me about your wife, Walter." 

This was a question Skinner had not been expecting. Ordinarily he tried to avoid any discussion about his wife; it was a source of both joy and pain that he preferred to keep private. Generally if anyone asked about her, he turned them away quickly with the iciest and briefest of replies. But this was different, and he found to his surprise that he wanted to tell Monica Reyes about his wife. 

"Sharon was ... is ... a lovely woman," he replied slowly, still lying on the ground with his hands clasped tightly behind his head. "We met while I was in college, after I did my tour in Nam. I was majoring in criminal law while she was an English major." 

"How did you meet her?" Reyes asked. 

"It was in the cafeteria on campus," Skinner recalled, his voice gone soft and a faint smile touching his face at the memory. "The place was crowded ... always was at lunchtime. Anyway, she came through with a tray of food and the only empty seat in the place was at my table. So I asked her to sit down." 

"Always the gentleman, even back then," Reyes remarked with a smile. 

"Not exactly," Skinner replied, chuckling a little as he remembered that afternoon. "Sharon was a beauty and every guy in that room would have loved to have her sitting at his table. You should have seen how they kept leering over at us, and the envy when they were looking at her." 

Reyes laughed at the picture he evoked, "Why Walter, who would have thought you would have cared about something like that," she teased. 

"Well, I was younger then," Skinner laughed. "Anyway, she and I talked and we just hit it off. So I asked her out." 

"And she accepted?" Reyes prompted. 

"Yes, she did," Skinner answered. "Anyway, you know how that goes, we began to date and before we knew it, we were in love. We got engaged at the beginning of our senior year, and we were married the summer after we graduated." 

"Sounds like the classic happy ending," Reyes commented, hugging her knees as she listened. 

"Yes, it should have been," Skinner replied. "I suppose it was, for a while. But then ..." he stopped, and a shadow crossed over his face as the memories of the years of his marriage flooded over him. 

"But then ... what, Walter?" Reyes prompted, looking squarely at him. "What went wrong?" 

Skinner closed his eyes for a moment as his mind slipped back into the past, those years when he had been an eager up-and-comer with a beautiful wife and was filled with hope for the future. Even though he had often reflected on those years, it was still difficult to pinpoint when exactly the hope and optimism had changed and when his marriage had begun its slow disintegration. 

Skinner sat up on the blanket, sitting cross-legged as he faced Reyes. "Like I said, for the first few years, things were great," he recalled. "I was a field agent based in Miami. Sharon got a job teaching English at one of the high schools. I guess for those first years, life was about as good as it could get. Except for Sharon's health." 

"What do you mean," Reyes asked. "What was wrong?" 

"By the third year of our marriage, Sharon and I both decided that we were ready for kids," Skinner recalled. "We stopped using any kind of birth control ... did everything we were supposed to do. But after almost two years, we still hadn't had any luck. So of course, we had ourselves checked out. I checked out fine, but Sharon ... they found some abnormalities in her uterus ... a growth. They ran tests and did a biopsy. The report came back ... Sharon had cancer." 

"Oh my God, Walter," Reyes whispered, reaching out her hand to him. Skinner grasped it and pulled her close to him, uncrossing his legs and stretching them out, open, in front of him to Reyes could sit in the space between them. She settled there and leaned against him, resting her head against his chest. Reaching behind her, she grasped her hands in his and pulled his arms about her, squeezing his hands as a signal for him to continue. 

"Of course, they operated on her," Skinner continued, his eyes growing hazy as he remembered. "Fortunately, they got it early ... the cancer was localized and there was no evidence of any spread. But they did have to remove her uterus. So of course, there was no hope of us having a child of our own." 

Reyes again squeezed his hands as she held them in her own, "Walter, I am so sorry," she said softly. "You must have been devastated." 

Skinner shook his head, "Not really," he replied. "I mean, I did want kids, but they didn't necessarily have to be kids of our own. I would have been willing to adopt." 

"So why didn't you?" Reyes asked. 

"Sharon didn't want to," Skinner answered. "She just felt that she couldn't be a real mother to a child that wasn't her own. And it was very hard for her to accept that she would never be able to have a baby of her own. Then I got the job offer from the Headquarters office in Washington, so we moved there." 

"And ..." Reyes prompted. 

"And ... things were never the same," Skinner said slowly. "There was a lot going on at Headquarters and more than enough work to go around. I was ambitious and wanted to move up. And I really felt that I was making a difference in the world. I spent more and more time at work and less at home. And when I was home ... well ... " 

"Well what?" 

Skinner paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. "Monica, you know what it's like ... the kind of work that we do," he said slowly. "You know how ugly ... how brutal and sickening it can sometimes be. The people we have to deal with. The things we have to do and the compromises we sometimes have to make." 

He felt Reyes shift slightly in his arms as she nodded silently. He allowed his lips to gently brush the top of her head before he continued. "I wanted to keep that from Sharon. I didn't want to bring that ugliness into our home. I thought I was doing the right thing and protecting her, but I was wrong. Instead she felt that I was pulling away from her. That I had lost interest in her and in our marriage. She felt alone, unneeded and unloved. And I was so lost in my work that I didn't see it until it was too late and she had lost any hope or interest in keeping our marriage together. She asked for a divorce and ... I gave it to her." 

Reyes sat up and twisted around so that she was kneeling, facing Skinner. Her dark eyes, filled with tender understanding, met his. "You didn't really want the divorce though, did you Walter," she asked him. "You still loved her." 

Skinner lowered his head, concentrating his gaze on the pattern of the blanket. "No, I didn't want the divorce," he answered quietly. "I still loved her very much." 

He felt her hands upon his face, one hand on either cheek and gave her no resistance as she raised his head so that once again his eyes met hers. "Do you still love her, Walter," she asked softly. 

Such a simple question, Skinner thought, and yet the answer was so complicated. How could he explain to this woman the emotions he still felt when he thought of his ex-wife? The mixture of feelings when he looked back on their courtship, their marriage and their final break-up? 

The silence stretched out over several minutes as he gave her question the thought it deserved. Finally, Skinner lifted his own hands so that they covered hers as he met her look and gave her the only answer he could ... an honest one. "Part of me will always love Sharon," he told her gently. "And part of me will always belong to her." 

He had half expected Reyes to pull away, but once again this woman surprised him by drawing him close and kissing him fully and sweetly on the lips. When he drew back, he saw a tender smile filled with womanly knowledge on her face. Reyes could read the question in his eyes and answered quickly before he could ask, "That was for your honesty, Walter," she said softly. "I am honored and touched that you could share that with me." 

**CHAPTER 19**

When Skinner and Reyes arrived back at the Phoenician from their day at the Aqua Fria River, they were pleasantly tired and both agreed that they really didn't feel like going anyplace that night. So while Reyes bathed Skinner ordered chateaubriand for two and a bottle of an excellent Bordeaux from room service. The two of them enjoyed their dinner and once the waiter had collected their things, they settled in front of the fireplace with the rest of the wine. Skinner sat on the floor, leaning his back against the club chair while Reyes stretched between his legs, leaning back against him. They sipped their wine and sat in companionable silence as soft classical music played on the stereo system. 

Skinner could not recall the last time he had felt so relaxed or contented as he felt at that moment, sitting on the floor with Reyes so close to him. He began to stroke her hair, caressing it, playing with it like a little boy. Reyes gave a contented sigh and leaned back even closer to him, "That feels nice," she whispered. 

Skinner played with her hair a few minutes longer, then his hands began to roam over her neck and shoulders, rubbing them gently. Reyes made a purring sound as his hands began to wander still lower, lightly massaging her breasts through her clothes. After a few moments of this Reyes shifted and slid lower onto the floor so that her head was resting in Skinner's lap. She gazed up at him and smiled, "Walter, I hope you know that you are starting something that you'd better be ready to finish!" 

Skinner needed no further urging, but bent his head down to her and kissed her deeply, all the while continuing to caress her with his hands. Reyes returned his kiss with equal fervor, her mouth opening and her tongue dancing with his. When he finally lifted his head, he could see the arousal in her eyes. "I have every intention of finishing this," he told her. "But I think we should move this into the bedroom." 

Reyes sat up and Skinner scrambled to his feet. She began to rise but he stopped her, bending to pick her up and he hoisted her into his arms easily. She was surprised at first, but then she locked her arms around his neck and smiled up at him happily. "Why, Mr. Skinner, what a strong man you are!" she teased. 

Skinner smiled back at her and kissed her lightly, "And you are quite a lovely armful of woman, Monica," he replied as he carried her into the bedroom and laid her gently upon the bed. Then, he slowly began to undress her, first helping her to sit up and then removing her t-shirt, kissing her shoulders, breasts and belly as they came into view. Then he slipped off first her shorts and then her panties. He paused then to remove his own clothing, giving both himself and Reyes a few moments to recover from their initial love play. 

Then Skinner began to make love to Reyes in earnest. Tonight, he wanted nothing more than to please her, to give her a night she would always remember. There was not an inch of her body that he did not caress with his large hands and his eager mouth. It was as though he was leaving his own mark on every part of Monica Reyes, ensuring that there would not be a single point of her that he had not touched. He was slow but sure in his attentions to her, bringing her to the edge over and over again. Her gentle moans, her squeals of delight and her cries of pleasure only served to encourage him to continue to draw out their lovemaking. 

At last, when neither one could stand it any longer he took her, not forcefully, but slowly and carefully, making love to her with more tenderness than he had ever done before. He guided Reyes through climax after climax until finally, he himself achieved a long, slow and satisfying release of his own. 

Afterwards, Reyes cuddled close to him and fell into a deep blissful sleep. He remained awake for a few moments, savoring the feel of her body against his and the warmth of her breath against his chest before he too slipped into a deep, peaceful and dreamless slumber. 

**CHAPTER 19**

As he came awake, Skinner was aware of a sense of well being such as he had not known for many months. He felt amazingly rested and relaxed as he stretched luxuriantly in the bed. Noting that the sun was coming in at an unusual angle, he glanced at the clock by his nightstand. Ten o'clock! He realized with astonishment that he had slept the entire night through without a single nightmare! 

He felt Reyes curled up against him, spooned into his back and slowly turned over so that he was facing her. She was still asleep, her mouth slightly parted so that he could both hear and feel her deep, even breaths. He looked down at her face, framed by her sleep-tousled hair and smiled fondly. She was so beautiful, his sleeping Monica. She seemed so young and so vulnerable, almost like a child, even though he knew full well that she was all woman. Impulsively, he bent his head down and kissed her softly, tenderly. 

As he kissed her, he felt her stir slightly in his arms and felt her lips open a little more in order to return his kiss. When he pulled back he saw that her eyes were open, dewy with sleep. "Good morning, sleepyhead," he said with a gentle smile. 

"Hmm, good morning, sunshine," Reyes replied, smiling back at him. "What a wonderful way to wake up!" 

"Well, I aim to please, ma'am," Skinner drawled out slowly, his exaggerated accent causing Reyes to giggle. 

"And please me you did," Reyes replied as she sat up slightly in order to plant a kiss on his cheek, then snuggled back down in his arms. "What time is it?" 

"A little after 10 on a bright, beautiful Arizona morning," Skinner responded, drawing her closer and lightly kissing the top of her head. "The sun is shining, the birds are singing and we're still here on vacation." 

"You seem on top of the world this morning, Walter." 

"And why wouldn't I be after last night," Skinner replied, his arms tightening a little around Reyes. "An evening making love to you followed by a good night's sleep ... the two things I needed to put me on top of the world." 

"Really?" Reyes shifted slightly so that she was looking up into Skinner's face. "You had a good night's sleep?" 

"The best sleep I've had in months," Skinner replied, lightly caressing her cheek. "No dreams ... no nightmares ... just peace and rest." 

"Oh Walter, I'm so glad," Reyes enthused. "I think that's just wonderful!" 

"Yes, it is wonderful," Skinner replied. "And I owe that to you, Monica." 

"You mean because making love to me wore you out," Reyes teased. 

"No, Monica," Skinner shook his head and dropped his playful manner, becoming serious. "Because you made me talk about what was happening to me, about what I was feeling. You made me face my demons. And you understood and supported me. I feel like such a weight has been taken from me. I can never thank you enough for that, Monica." 

Reyes regarded him seriously, her eyes filling with tears as she listened. She reached up and laid her hand against his unshaven cheek, lightly caressing it with her long fingers, "You just did, Walter," she whispered. "And I don't think I've ever been thanked so beautifully." 

Skinner took her hand in his and pressed it gently to his lips. "I will never forget what you have done for me, Monica," he murmured softly as he pulled her even closer into the warm circle of his arms. "You saved my sanity ... and may very well have saved my life." 

**CHAPTER 20**

It was next to impossible to be heard over the sound of the helicopter blades whipping and the wind the blades raised. Skinner and Reyes sat side-by-side in the helicopter behind the pilot, looking down into the great gorge that was known as the Grand Canyon. They had decided they could not let the vacation end without visiting this best known of Arizona's natural landmarks, even though Reyes had already seen it several times. 

"Then why see it again," Skinner had asked as they dressed for the day. 

"Is that your way of telling me you don't want to visit the Grand Canyon?" Reyes replied as she pulled her dark hair into a ponytail that somehow made her look like an eager schoolgirl. 

"Of course I want to see it," Skinner answered as he carefully put away his shaving implements and washed his face clean of the remaining shaving cream. "But we should do something we'd both enjoy ... you have seen the Grand Canyon before." 

Reyes came to him with a towel and teasingly dried off his face, "Ah, but I've never seen the Grand Canyon with you, Walter," she said warmly. "That will make it a brand new experience for me." 

Skinner grinned and allowed her to blot the last of the water droplets before he bent and gave her a quick kiss. Reyes accepted the kiss and returned it with enthusiasm, then pulled away and gave him an impish smile. "Then after we see the Canyon, we can stop off in Sedona and do some shopping!" 

"Shopping, huh," Skinner laughed. "I should have known there would be a catch in there somewhere." 

So they had made the drive up to the helipad just south of Sedona and boarded the helicopter and were now flying directly over the Grand Canyon. As he looked down Skinner was filled with awe at the sight of the majestic red rocks and peaks rising to the sky, and the deep crevice of a canyon that had been cut into the rocks back when the world was still young. He knew that he was looking upon a scene that had been witnessed by men through many centuries and that the mountains and valleys he saw were the same as had been viewed by pre-historic man, by the Indians of the western prairies, and by the settlers, ranchers and miners who had been its most recent visitors. 

He caught sight of Reyes' face and if she hadn't told him she had already seen the Canyon, he would have believed that she was viewing it for the first time. The look on her face, the awe and wonder there as she gazed down upon the scene below, was touchingly lovely. Skinner reached for her hand and squeezed it tightly, glad that she was there to share this moment with him. She turned to him, smiled brightly and squeezed his hand back, silently conveying that she understood, and that she felt the same way. 

Once they returned from their helicopter flight over the Grand Canyon, Skinner and Reyes headed for the town of Sedona. Once there, they took their time wandering through several of the picturesque galleries the town is famous for, enjoying the displays of Indian and Southwestern arts and crafts. They took a break for a light lunch on the terrace at the Creekside Inn, a lovely bed and breakfast located on a green, wooded slope that overlooked the sparkling creek that flowed through Sedona. Both were in such high spirits that everything seemed funny, from the rather dour little man who waited on them, to the high prices listed on the menu for what turned out to be sort of a nouvelle cuisine. 

"Everything on this menu is 'baby' this or 'petite' that," Skinner commented. 

"Except for the prices," Reyes replied. "Can you imagine, $22 for baby lamb chops?" 

Once they placed their orders, they leaned back and enjoyed the scenery. The sound of the creek, the warm wind rustling through the trees, the bright sunshine and blue sky all contributed to their mood. 

As they watched, a young man came by driving a flock of ducks and geese in front of him, "Guess we know where they get their pate from," Reyes giggled. "Have you ever seen a fatter brood? Their livers must be enormous!" 

A few moments later, another boy came by, this time leading one sheep and four lambs. "Hey, you'd better run ... I think the chef is looking for you," Skinner called out, causing Reyes to break up with laughter. "You can't get more fresh than meat on the hoof!" 

The jokes and laughter continued throughout their lunch, much to the disapproval of the waiter who was accustomed to more sedate patrons. "I don't think he liked us very much, Walter," Reyes commented as they left the inn. 

"Does that really bother you, Monica?" Skinner asked, pulling a wry face at her. 

"Hell no!" Reyes replied. "It was fun to shake him up a bit!" 

Then it was time to hit the boutiques. Skinner watched Reyes with amusement as she went from store to store, finding something to ooh and ah and admire in every one of them, yet in each case deciding against making a purchase. "You must be the Queen of the Window Shoppers," Skinner commented as they left their fifth boutique. 

"I know, but I can't help it," Reyes replied. "I know what I want, but I just haven't seen it yet. And I won't settle for anything less ... wait!!!!" 

Reyes pulled up short in front of the window of La Chantelle, absolutely transfixed by what she was viewing. Skinner followed the direction of her eyes and saw her looking at a mannequin wearing a cream-colored silk outfit. "Oh Walter," she breathed. "Isn't it beautiful? That is what I was looking for!" 

Reyes all but ran into the shop, Skinner following along behind her. A few moments later, she had disappeared into a fitting room. Skinner waited patiently, looking at some of the displays in the counters without too much interest. Then he heard Reyes' voice behind him, "Walter, what do you think?" 

Skinner turned and was instantly struck by the lovely sight Monica Reyes presented. The cream-colored silk dress looked like it had been made especially for her, and somehow combined European sophistication with Western flair. The V-neck cut of the fitted bodice, decorated with iridescent beads, showed her long neck, firm bosom and small waist to advantage, then the silk flared out in full, heavy folds that fell to her ankles. "Well," Reyes repeated, "What do you think?" 

"I think you look absolutely beautiful," Skinner commented with feeling. "And I think you'd be a damn fool not to buy that dress!" 

Reyes smiled at him happily and then pirouetted in front of the mirror like a teenager, "I'm so glad you like it," she chirped, "Because I'm totally in love with it. And even though it's almost $300, I'm going to take it." 

Reyes slipped back into the fitting room, and changed back into her jeans and T-shirt, handing the dress to the salesclerk, but another half hour passed before she was ready to leave the boutique as she selected a pair of high-topped cream suede shoes and a clutch bag to go with the dress. Finally, everything was paid for and boxed for her and she and Skinner exited the store. 

Then it was back to the Mustang and Skinner drove them back along the highway to Phoenix. Halfway back, he noticed that Reyes was uncharacteristically quiet and he glanced over at her. She was slumped against the door of the car, sound asleep, a wistful smile on her face. Skinner smiled at her fondly before turning his attention back to the road and gunning the engine, pushing the little red speedster as fast as it would go. 

It was nearing 6 p.m. when Skinner and Reyes arrived back at the Phoenician. Reyes awakened shortly before they pulled up, refreshed and animated from her nap. "I'm sorry I fell asleep on you," she teased. "But that does mean that I'm wide awake and ready to go again. What would you like to do this evening?" 

Skinner thought about it for a minute as he helped her out of the car, reached in the back for her box from the boutique, and then handed the keys to the Valet. "How does this sound ... let's go take a swim and then we can get dressed up and go to Mary Elaine's here at the resort," Skinner suggested. "I could use the swim after all of that time in the car." 

"Hmm ... sounds good to me," Reyes replied. "And Mary Elaine's is the dressiest place here ... gives me the chance to wear my new outfit." 

"Just what I was thinking," Skinner answered with a smile. "I'll book a table for 8 p.m. That should give us plenty of time." 

They quickly went to his suite and changed into their swimsuits, Skinner taking a few moments out to make the necessary dinner reservations. Then they headed down to the pool. Jumping into the water, Skinner swam a couple of laps to ease the tension in his arms and legs caused by hours of driving, then simply leaned back and floated in the water. Reyes, on the other hand, was in a playful mood and took several rides down the 165-foot water slide, screaming with delight every time she hurtled down the slide and hit the water. 

Skinner watched her with amusement and wonder at her energy and her capacity for enjoyment. It amazed him that someone who had seen the things that she had seen on the job had not become jaded, but could get such a thrill out of a something so simple. 

Reyes noticed that he was watching her and waved from the top of the slide. Then she flopped down on her stomach and slid down, head first, shrieking and giggling all the way. She slid underwater and then broke the surface a few yards away from the slide. Splashing and laughing, she swam over to where Skinner was floating. "Did you enjoy the show?" she asked breathlessly. 

"Of course," Skinner replied as he brought his long legs back below the surface in order to tread water and face her. "You're a regular little mermaid. Have fun?" 

"Oh, God yes, it's fantastic," Reyes answered as she bobbed up and down in the water. "Why don't you try it?" 

"Uh ... I don't think so, Monica," Skinner responded. "I think I'm a little old for water slides!" 

"Oh, don't be silly, Walter," Reyes answered. "That slide was designed for grown-ups. Come on, give it a try! It will be fun!" 

"I'll just stick with the pool, thank you very much!" 

"Oh ... pleeaaasssee," Reyes coaxed in wheedling tone. "Please try it once, just for me?" She came closer to him, so that she was just an arm's length away. "Come on ... we can even ride down together. Pleeeezzzzeeeee!" 

"Monica, you go ahead if you want to," Skinner answered, putting on his best stone face as he tried to resist her pleas. "I'd rather just watch you!" 

The mischievous sparkle began to dance in Reyes' eyes. "Now I get it," she said. "You're just scared, aren't you?" 

"No, Monica, I'm not scared," Skinner said firmly. 

"Oh yes you are!" Reyes gurgled, and she began to splash him with water as she chanted, "Walter is a fraidy-cat! Walter is a fraidy-cat!" 

"Stop that, Monica," Skinner commanded, splashing her back. 

"Won't!" Reyes replied, splashing even harder as she continued her singsong, "Walter is a fraidy-cat! Walter is a fraidy-cat!" 

Finally, in exasperation, Skinner capitulated. "All right, Monica. I'll go down that dammed slide with you!" 

Reyes stopped her splashing and chanting and began to swim for the ladder at the side of the pool. Skinner followed along behind her, pulling his long frame up out of the water with the aid of the ladder. Then, with an air of resignation, he followed her to the large 165-foot slide. While he would never admit it, the simple truth was that he had never been on a slide of that size before and while he wasn't exactly scared, he did find the prospect a little less than inviting. However, he was damned if he would let Reyes get away with her taunting. 

She began to climb the ladder to the slide and he followed her, admiring the way her wet swimsuit fitted over the curves of her shapely rear and the power of her thighs and arms as she stretched and climbed each step. Such a view almost made the long climb worthwhile. 

At last, they were at the top. Reyes turned to Skinner with an eager smile. "Here we are," she exclaimed. "Do you want us to go one at a time or together?" 

"Together!" 

"Okay," Reyes dropped down and sat at the edge of the platform and stretched her legs out so they reached down into the slide. Turning, she made a motion behind her. "You sit down here ... behind me." 

Following her lead, Skinner dropped to a sitting position behind Reyes, his legs drawn up. Reaching behind her, Reyes grasped each foot and began to pull them down on either side, straightening them so that they ran just outside her own. "Like this, your legs around me," she instructed. "And then you need to scrunch right up next to me and put your arms around me." 

Skinner smiled as he complied with her directions, wrapping his arms around Reyes' waist and pulling her tightly into himself, savoring the feel of her body close to his. "Like this, Monica?" 

"Perfect!" Reyes answered. "Now are you ready, Walter?" 

Skinner took a deep breath, "Ready!" 

"Then hang on!" Reyes leaned back and then pulled forward, reaching up and grasping his hands with her own to ensure that he would not break his hold as they began to move off the platform and down the slide. 

Then they were off! Skinner felt a rush of adrenaline and a combination of fear and exhilaration as they moved down the long, curved, water-slicked slide. Reyes leaned back into him, shrieking with delight and, instinctively, he began to roar out as they moved faster and faster, picking up speed with each curve. As they hit the final straightaway, their speed increased, practically driving the breath out of his body. Then, all of a sudden the surface of the slide disappeared and he was flying through the air, his grip on Reyes broken. He let out a long, "Whoooaaaaaa!" of pure exuberance at the sensation and then he hit the water with a mighty splash. 

It took him a minute to get his bearings underwater, but he was able to turn himself so he was moving upwards and quickly broke the surface. Reyes popped up a few feet beyond, laughing as she did so. Skinner quickly swam to her and she closed the last little bit of distance, hurtling herself into his arms. "You did it! You did it!" she chanted, covering his face with kisses. 

**CHAPTER 21**

Skinner paced the floor in the living room of the suite, periodically checking his wristwatch. On the fourth such check, he called out, "Monica, aren't you ready yet?" 

"In a minute," Reyes called out for what seemed to him like the umpteenth time. 

"How long does it take a woman to get dressed for dinner," Skinner muttered to himself. After all, it had taken him less than a half hour to shower, shave and dress in his dark blue suit ... the suit he had worn on his trip from Washington. As he dressed, tying his tie, he realized that it had been almost a week since he had worn it and that his vacation was coming to an end. In the past, when his vacations had drawn to a close he had been accepting, almost eager to get back to his work. But this time was different ... when he thought about going back to Washington and to his job he felt a strange sense of apprehension ... almost of dread. 

He shook his head in an attempt to banish those thoughts and once again called out "Monica, are you ready yet?" 

"Yes, Walter," he heard her voice close by and turned to see her standing on the threshold of the living room, and the sight of her took his breath away. Gone was the hoyden of the afternoon ... this Monica Reyes was a very poised, very lovely woman. She wore the cream silk dress with grace and dignity, the soft suede shoes, a pearl necklace and pearl earrings completing the outfit. Her face bore just enough cosmetics to bring out her best features and she wore her hair in an upswept style that managed to be simple and sophisticated at the same time. 

Reyes smiled at his reaction, "I'm sorry I took so long, Walter," she apologized. "I hope I was worth waiting for." 

Skinner continued to regard her with undisguised admiration. "You are definitely worth waiting for, Monica," he replied. "You ... are beautiful." 

Reyes inclined her head, accepting the compliment with grace, "Thank you, I'm glad you think so. You're looking quite handsome yourself, Walter." 

Skinner came to her and held out his arm, "If you're ready to go, Monica, I believe our table is waiting." 

"That was an absolutely superb dinner," Reyes commented as they lingered over coffee and cognac in the elegant dining room. "I am completely and totally stuffed." 

Skinner had pre-ordered their dinner: Cream of Lobster Soup with Medallions of Lobster and Summer Mushrooms to start; Chateaubriand of Buffalo with Grilled Sonoma Foie Gras, Chateau Potatoes and Bearnaise Sauce, and to close the meal, fresh strawberries served with a Poppyseed Gateau and Lemon Curd, all dishes served with the appropriate vintage wines. The food had been exceptional, the service discreet and excellent. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, Monica," Skinner replied. "Although perhaps we should have saved this for tomorrow night." 

"Because tomorrow night is going to be our last night together here," Reyes enquired. 

"So you've been thinking about that, too." Skinner stated, sipping his cognac. 

"Of course," Reyes answered. "It's hard not to think about it. Why are you leaving on Saturday, anyway?" 

"I like to have a day to sort of ease back into reality after a vacation," Skinner answered. "I can use Sunday to catch up on things around the house and sort of get out of vacation mode before I go back to work Monday." 

Reyes smiled thoughtfully, "Always in control, Walter. I'm just the opposite. I want to squeeze every moment out of my vacation. I figure just being back at work will get me back into the routine fast enough." 

"Well, I have to admit that this time, I'm wishing I hadn't been so practical," Skinner replied. "I would have liked to have that extra day. I was thinking earlier that I'm really not looking forward to seeing this vacation end." 

"That's not so unusual, Walter," Reyes answered as she sipped her coffee. "Most people don't like to see their vacations end." 

"Ah, but I'm not most people," Skinner said. "I always enjoy my trips, but I'm usually more than eager to get back home and get into harness again. But not this time." 

"Hmmm ... that's interesting," Reyes mused. "I wonder why." 

"Oh, I don't wonder why ... I already have the answer." 

"You do?" Reyes queried. "What is it?" 

Skinner looked directly at her, and when he spoke his voice was low but full of feeling. "It's you, Monica. I'm not looking forward to saying goodbye to you. In fact, I'm not really sure that I can." 

Reyes was silent for a moment, her eyes locked with his. Skinner was surprised to see them slowly fill with tears. When she finally spoke, her own voice was low but filled with emotion. "Oh Walter, what a beautiful thing to say. And I have to admit, I'm going to hate saying goodbye to you." 

Skinner reached across the table and took her hand in his. "Monica, do we really have to say goodbye?" 

"What do you mean, Walter," Reyes asked slowly. "You have your life and work in Washington, and I have mine in New Orleans." 

"You could come with me to Washington," Skinner was speaking impulsively now, the words tumbling out without any forethought. "I'm sure you would be able to get a job there ..." 

"Walter, you know it's not that easy," Reyes interrupted. "Don't misunderstand ... I'd love to make the move to Washington, but right now that's just not possible." 

"Why not?" Skinner pressed. When Reyes didn't answer immediately, he continued to press, "Monica, why not? If you couldn't get a position with the FBI right away, there are other agencies ... unless there's something holding you back." Skinner paused as a sudden thought struck him. "Monica, is there someone else in your life? Is that the reason?" 

Reyes shook her head as she replied, "No Walter, there's no one in my life right now." 

The emphasis she put on the last two words caught Skinner's attention. "You say there's no one in your life right now. But there was someone, wasn't there? Someone you cared about very much." 

Reyes lowered her head so that it was impossible to see her face. Skinner took her silence for assent and felt a sudden sense of jealousy at the thought of the unknown man in her life. Then he began to realize ... of course ... it all made sense now. He abruptly released Reyes' hand and pulled away, sitting back in his chair. "It's John Doggett, isn't it," he asked. "You were involved with Agent Doggett." 

Reyes looked up quickly and he saw confusion on her face, "What on earth makes you think that?" 

"Isn't it obvious," Skinner enquired. "You've already admitted you two know each other ... that you're close. And you came running when he called you back in Montana." 

"Walter, John Doggett and I are colleagues and friends, and that's all we've ever been," Reyes replied. "We became very close friends when we were searching for his son and that friendship has endured. We respect and admire each other. If I needed his help with a case or a problem, I know he'd be there for me, just as I am there for him. But that's as far as our relationship goes. He is not in love with me and I am not in love with him." 

Skinner felt an enormous sense of relief at her words, relief that was quickly replaced by doubt. "Still, you didn't deny that there was someone else in your life." 

"No, I didn't," Reyes answered. "But before I give you the answer, you'd better be sure that you want to hear it." 

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know," Skinner replied, feeling the skin on the back of his neck begin to prickle with apprehension. 

"Okay, if that's what you want," Reyes shrugged. "Yes, there was someone in my life. But he's not in New Orleans ... he's in Washington D.C. now. You probably already know him. His name is Brad Follmer." 

Brad Follmer. Yes, Skinner knew him all right. An image formed in his mind of the most recent addition to the Deputy Director's Senior Staff ... Assistant Director Brad Follmer. He had transferred to Washington recently from New York, picking up the job that many thought would have gone to John Doggett ... Assistant Director of the Missing Persons Division. Young for such a responsible position, physically attractive with his blond, blue-eyed, boyish good looks, Follmer seemed to have it all. But there was something about Follmer that seemed a bit off to Skinner ... something about him just didn't ring true. And he wasn't the only one to feel that way ... his secretary Kim once commented that she didn't feel comfortable around the new Assistant Director. When Skinner asked her way, she said, "I can't really explain it. There's just something about him that seems ... off. All of my instincts tell me to stay away from him." 

Reyes had been watching Skinner closely and she gave a bitter smile as she read the look on his face, "I see I was right ... you do know him." 

"Oh yes, Monica, I do know Assistant Director Follmer," Skinner replied. "My question is, how do you know him?" 

"We were lovers." Reyes said those words, three simple words, in a totally matter-of-fact manner, but they burned into Skinner's brain. He paled slightly underneath his Arizona tan as those words sickened him. His jaw clenched and Reyes saw his hand tighten into a fist. Tentatively, she laid her hand over his. "Walter, we need to talk about it ... but not here. Let's take a walk in the garden and I'll tell you everything you need to know." 

**CHAPTER 22**

The evening was warm with a pleasant breeze. Silvery moonlight streamed down, illuminating the pathway that led through the garden down to the lake. Skinner and Reyes walked side by side along the path, physically separated only by inches but emotionally the distance between them stretched for miles. Although Reyes had suggested the walk in order to discuss her relationship with Brad Follmer, neither she nor Skinner spoke as they moved slowly down the path. When they came to the bench near the end of the path, overlooking the glistening lake, Reyes came to a halt. She reached out and touched Skinner's arm tentatively, in a gesture so different from her open displays of affection. "Let's sit down, Walter," she suggested. 

Reyes sat on one end of the bench. Skinner carefully seated himself at the opposite end. Reyes couldn't help but notice and she winced slightly. She folded her hands in her lap and looked down at them, her mind full of memories of the past. "I met Brad Follmer when I was assigned to the New York office," she began. "I was a rookie agent, fresh out of the Academy. You know how that can be ... plenty of book knowledge and enthusiasm ... absolutely no street smarts." 

Skinner's body language said it all. He sat stiffly, his hands clenched into fists and resting on his thighs. The image of a man who was hearing something that he really did not want to hear. But there was no choice ... he had started this, he had to finish. "Go on," he told her. 

"I was assigned to Brad Follmer's unit," Reyes continued. "He had recently been promoted to supervisor and since I was one of his new agents, he took a special interest in me. At least, that's what I thought at first." 

"At first? What changed your mind?" Skinner asked. 

"He was spending more time with me than he was with the other new agents," Reyes continued. "At first it seemed like he was giving me extra guidance. He had the experience I lacked and I knew that he was well thought of and had risen quickly, so I was flattered that he was paying attention to me. But before long, he made it clear that he was viewing me as more than just another new agent. First there were a few subtle signals, then some more overt hints. Then he finally just asked me out. And I said yes." 

"And?" 

"He took me to dinner at one of New York's finest restaurants. We talked and we danced ... and then he asked me to go home with him." 

Reyes paused and Skinner looked over at her, taking in the bent head and the downcast eyes. "You could have reported him for sexual harassment," Skinner told her. "I know you were inexperienced, but you must have known that." 

"Yes, I could have, but I didn't," Reyes replied. She raised her head and as her eyes met Skinner's he could see an expression almost of defiance in them. "I didn't want to, Walter. I went home with Brad ... and we became lovers that night." 

At her words, a series of images passed through his mind, images of Monica Reyes and Brad Follmer dancing, kissing and making love. Vivid images that angered and sickened him. "I suppose you were in love with him," he said at last, more as a statement than a question. 

Reyes shook her head. "You're wrong," she replied. "I was never in love with Brad, and I knew right from the start that he wasn't in love with me ... not really." 

"Then why?" Skinner asked. "Why did you have an affair with Brad Follmer?" 

"An affair," Reyes repeated with a ghost of a smile. "What an old-fashioned term for what we had. Brad was attractive, good-looking, intelligent, a smooth-talker. He was also successful ... very successful. And it was clear he was going to continue to be successful. And all of that turned me on back then. Brad Follmer was a very appealing package ... for a while. Our relationship lasted for about two years, then I broke it off." 

She was being honest, Skinner had to give her that. But for the first time in their relationship, he was wishing that she would lie to him. He wanted to picture her as an innocent who had been seduced by an older, worldlier man. Instead, she had gone into her affair with Brad Follmer clearly knowing what she was doing. And he realized that he was finding the idea damn near impossible to accept. 

Skinner could feel Reyes' eyes on him and he tried to meet her look, but he couldn't. He stared out at the lake, but his eyes saw nothing. Reyes shook her head ruefully, "I've shocked you, haven't I, Walter?" 

Skinner found he could no longer sit still and he rose and walked the few steps to the water's edge. He kept his back turned to Reyes and continued to look out at the glassy, moonlit water. Reyes looked at his broad back and it seemed to him as if he could feel her eyes boring into his shoulders, seeing through to his heart and all of the emotions churning there: anger, disappointment and jealousy. 

"No answer is an answer, Walter," Reyes said quietly, her voice falling softly on his ears. "You are shocked ... and I really don't understand why. You knew I was no virgin." 

"Oh yes, I knew that, Monica" Skinner replied, as the memory of their nights together flashed through his mind. "But I guess I thought ..." 

"Thought what?" Reyes asked. 

"I guess I thought you were the kind of woman who needed to care about a man before going to bed with him," Skinner finished. "But that's not what you're telling me now." 

"Oh come on, Walter, are you going to tell me that you have never gone to bed with a woman you didn't have strong feelings for," Reyes questioned in a voice gone suddenly harsh. "That every time you had sex with a woman it was with someone you cared deeply about?" 

Reyes' verbal shaft had found its mark. Skinner was silent as he remembered the girls in Saigon and Tokyo ... the women that had occupied his bed before his marriage, and the (admittedly few) women he had been with since his divorce. No, there was no question that he was capable of sex without emotion or commitment, something he thought he had in common with many men. But somehow, it just never occurred to him that a woman could feel the same way. 

Reyes correctly interpreted his silence as an admission that she was right, but that knowledge gave her no satisfaction. "Walter, I don't understand this," she said with honest confusion. "At first you were upset thinking that I might have feelings for John Doggett or for Brad Follmer, now you are upset that I slept with Brad even though I didn't love him. What is the real problem here?" 

Skinner turned back to face her then, his eyes gone dark with the emotions he was feeling. "I guess the real problem is I'm trying to figure out what I mean to you, Monica," he replied. "What have the last few days meant to you ... am I another Brad Follmer in your life?" 

Understanding showed in Reyes' eyes. She stood up and walked to where Skinner stood. She reached out and took his hand in her own, and when she spoke, her voice was gentle, almost tender. "Walter, I can tell you right now that you are not another Brad Follmer." 

Skinner looked down into her eyes, those honest, expressive eyes that met his own so frankly. "Then what am I to you?" 

"I think you are one of the finest men I have ever met," she replied. "You are strong, decent, honest ... all the things that Brad isn't and never will be. You are also gentle and caring ... and a wonderful lover. I consider myself fortunate to have met you and been a part of your life this past week." 

"Which brings us back to what started all of this," Skinner said quietly. "Why does this have to end? Why not come back to Washington ... with me?" 

"Walter, be realistic," Reyes tried to reason with him. "I have a career and a life back in New Orleans. I can't just pick up and leave ..." 

"But if you love me ..." Skinner began. 

"When did I say I loved you," Reyes interrupted. "I never said I loved you!" 

Her words hit Skinner like a sharp slap in the face. He felt a number of painful emotions ... anger, frustration and embarrassment being at the top of the list. First he flushed and then his face drained of color as her words sank in. He waited to speak until he was sure he had control of his voice. "I see," he said, as tonelessly as he could. "Then there's nothing more to discuss," and he turned away. 

He felt Reyes grab his arm and heard her say, "Walter, I'm sorry ... let me explain ..." but he shook her loose and began to walk up the slope. "Come on ..." he heard her plead, but he continued to walk slowly towards the garden path. 

Suddenly her voice rang out shrilly, "God damn it, Walter don't you dare turn your back on me, you son-of-a-bitch!" 

Skinner had never had a woman speak to him in that tone or using those words before, and he turned back angrily. "How dare you speak to me like that?" he demanded. "What makes you think you have the right?" 

"What makes you think you have the right to cut me off and walk away from me," Reyes demanded in return as she strode up the path to meet him, her own face a mask of cold anger. "At the very least, you owe me the courtesy of hearing me out!" 

They faced each other, toe-to-toe in the moonlight, the anger and raw emotion almost palpable. They held their stance for a moment, and then Skinner's innate sense of fair play re-asserted itself. "You're right, Monica," he replied, speaking with a calmness that he did not feel. "I do owe you that courtesy." 

Reyes' face softened at his words, and her body relaxed slightly as the anger seemed to drain out of her. She reached for his hands and took them in her own, holding them tightly. "Walter, I do care about you, more than I thought possible," she began. "We have had a wonderful week. But it has only been a week ... and a week taken out of our normal, day-to-day lives. This isn't the real world ... not for you and not for me." 

Skinner was silent, listening to her words. He still held himself stiffly, and while he did not remove his hands from hers, neither did he return her clasp. "Go on." 

Reyes took a deep breath before she continued. "It's too soon for me to know if I'm in love with you, Walter. To me, being in love means knowing each other, not just in a fantasy setting like this, but in the real world. It means maintaining a relationship as we deal with real problems like getting up for work every day, deciding what to fix for dinner, taking out the trash, cleaning up the bathroom ... things like that. Until we share things like that, we have no way of knowing if a relationship between the two of us will work," she paused for breath and looked up at him, trying to determine if what she was saying was getting through. "Think about it, Walter. Think about how little you really know about me, and how little I know about you. Can you honestly tell me that you are in love with me? That you would be ready to give up your life in Washington to join me in New Orleans? Can you?" 

Skinner was silent, reflecting upon her words. In his heart, he knew she was right. When he compared the feelings that he had for her with those he had for Sharon before they were married, he knew they were not the same. He truly knew Sharon, had spent time getting to know her habits, strengths and weaknesses before they made the decision to share their lives. That was not the case between him and Reyes. When he and Sharon married, he was prepared to drop everything else in his life to be with her ... something he knew he was not ready to do for Monica Reyes. 

Skinner's hands now moved in hers, his fingers returning her clasp. "You're right, Monica," he admitted slowly. "You're right about all of it. I guess ..." he paused for a moment and cleared his throat before he continued, "I guess I have enjoyed all of this ... your company ... the way you made me laugh ... the way you took away my loneliness ... so much that I tried to make it something that it isn't. But you're right ... that may be grounds to start exploring the possibility of a relationship, but it isn't being in love. And it's not enough for either of us to give up our current lives." 

Reyes managed a slight smile, although her eyes glistened with tears as she reached up and touched Skinner's face. "Maybe someday, Walter ..." she whispered. "It's just too soon right now. Much too soon." 

"So where does that leave us now?" Skinner asked, managing a slight smile of his own in answer to hers. 

"Well ..." Reyes drawled slowly as she drew closer and put her arms around his neck. "It leaves us with some lovely memories of a very special vacation. And the possibility of something more in the future." 

Skinner placed his arms around her waist and drew her closer to him. "Hmmm ... that sounds about right to me." 

"And we do still have one day and two nights left, Walter," Reyes purred as she pressed herself tightly against him, leaning her head on his chest. "And that gives us time to make even more memories before we have to leave." 

**CHAPTER 23**

Once again, Skinner and Reyes were traveling along the highway, with Skinner behind the wheel racing the Mustang convertible while Reyes sat in the passenger seat, the wind whipping her hair. 

After their revealing walk and talk in the garden, Skinner and Reyes had returned to his suite and spent the remainder of the evening in a long and leisurely lovemaking session before they both dropped off into a satisfied slumber. Upon awakening, they talked about what to do on this, their last day of vacation together. 

"Really, you should be the one to decide, Walter," Reyes had insisted, despite his protests that he was willing to spend the day in whatever fashion she chose. "I still have another day to spend here. So what would you like to do today? Golf ... tennis ... sightseeing ... it's your pick." 

"Are you sure, Monica," he asked. "Are you sure you want me to decide?" 

"Absolutely," Reyes responded. "This is YOUR day ... and we're going to spend it the way YOU choose." 

Skinner thought for a few moments. Golf was something he could play anywhere. As for sightseeing, he had already seen the main attractions he wanted to see. He thought about it and then it hit him ... how he really wanted to spend this, his last day with Monica Reyes. 

"Tell you what I'd really like to do," he told her. "Let's get in the car and head out to Lucia's." 

Reyes eyes sparkled with pleasure at the thought, "Are you sure that's what you want to o today, Walter?" 

"I'm absolutely sure, Monica," Skinner replied. "I really enjoyed our trip up there earlier this week and I would love to go there again before I leave." 

And now they were approaching Lucia's, the wooden frame structures with their large sign a welcome sight to both of them. Skinner expertly steered the car off the road and pulled up into a waiting parking space between two large trucks. 

As he had done before, Skinner climbed out of the car first and then came around to the other side to help Reyes out. As he took her hand, he felt once again that thrill, that almost electric charge that he had felt the first time ... a thrill that was now familiar but no less exciting and sweet. From the way her fingers tightened around his and the happy smile she gave him, Skinner could tell that Reyes felt the same way. 

This time, rather than releasing her hand and following her into the building, Skinner kept hold of her hand as they walked up the porch steps and into the wooden building. Just as before, lively salsa music was playing and, as before, the heavenly aroma of Mexican cooking was wafting through the air. 

The doors from the kitchen opened and Lucia emerged, a loaded tray in her hands. She spotted Skinner and Reyes immediately and came to them. "Monica ... Mr. Skinner ... what a surprise," she exclaimed. "Let me go serve this to that couple over there and I'll be right with you." 

Lucia quickly served the couple in the center booth and then came back to where Skinner and Reyes were standing, reaching out and enveloping Reyes in a warm embrace, "I didn't know you would be coming back, Monica," she enthused. 

"Neither did I," Reyes admitted as she hugged the woman back. "But it's Walter's last day of vacation and when I asked him what I wanted to do he said he wanted to drive up here." 

"Did you, Senor Skinner," Lucia exclaimed, seizing his hand in hers. "How wonderful." 

"Well, you made the best Mexican meal I ever ate, Mrs. Valesquez," Skinner replied with a grin. "I decided I needed more of your good cooking before I went back to the Taco Bell in Washington." 

"Ah, bah! to Taco Bell," Lucia spat out with a saucy wave of her hand. "Oh, you picked a good day to visit. Our neighbor, Emiliano Moreno brought over some freshly dressed turkeys and I have been preparing my special mole for them." 

"Mole?" Skinner queried. 

"You have never had mole," Lucia asked incredulously. "It is the royal sauce of Mexico. You must try it." 

"Oh yes, Walter," Reyes echoed with enthusiasm. "Lucia makes the best mole." 

"Hey, if you both recommend it, who am I to argue," Skinner acquiesced. 

"It will be ready in about 15 minutes," Lucia said happily. "I promise you it is worth the wait." 

"I believe you," Skinner replied. "And since we've got a little time, why don't I go over and check out the store while you two ladies talk a little?" 

"I can come with you to the store," Reyes began, but Skinner stopped her. 

"No ... you visit with Mrs. Valesquez. I just want to check a few things over there, Monica," he told her as he leaned over and kissed her cheek, a gesture he knew did not go unnoticed by Lucia Valesquez. "I won't be long." 

"I'll send someone for you when your meal is ready," Lucia told him, a twinkle in her eyes. 

"Oh, I'm sure you will," Skinner grinned. He made his way towards the exit, but just before he opened the door, he turned around to see Monica Reyes and Lucia Valesquez seated at one of the tables. He saw Lucia make a gesture in his direction and Reyes nod, leaving him no doubt that he was their topic of discussion. With a smile, he opened the door and stepped out into the courtyard that separated the restaurant from the store. 

"So what were you telling Lucia about me?" 

Skinner asked Reyes that question as the lingered over their coffee and dessert. After finishing a superb turkey mole (Skinner still couldn't believe there was chocolate in the sauce and Reyes couldn't stop giggling at his reaction when she told him) they had shared a portion of Reyes' beloved fried ice cream and were sipping at the last of a pot of strong Mexican coffee. 

"What makes you think I told Lucia anything about you," Reyes replied, winking impishly at him over her coffee cup. "There are other things in the world for us to talk about, you know." 

"Does that mean you didn't talk about me," Skinner challenged. 

"Well ... not exactly," Reyes answered with a smile. "I guess we did talk about you a little." 

"And ..." 

"And I told Lucia that you had helped make this the best vacation I've ever had," Reyes admitted. "She told me that she had already guessed that." 

"Oh really?" Skinner asked, raising an eyebrow quizzically. "If her intuition is that good, maybe I ought to try to recruit her for the Bureau." 

"You could do worse," Reyes wisecracked before she drank down the last of her coffee. "And now, if you don't mind, you've had a chance to check out the store. I think I'd like to do the same." 

"Do you want me to come with you," Skinner asked, half rising. 

"No, you stay put and finish your coffee," Reyes replied. "I won't be very long, I promise." 

Skinner was pouring the last of the pot of coffee into his cup when Lucia appeared, standing behind the chair Reyes had recently vacated. "Mr. Skinner, may I join you for a few minutes?" she asked. 

Skinner gestured to the empty chair across from him, "Please do, Mrs. Velasquez." 

Lucia gave him a gay smile as she slipped into the chair. "I wanted to talk with you," she began. 

"About Monica?" Skinner queried. 

Lucia nodded. "I hope you don't mind ... I've known Monica since she was a little girl," she said slowly, "She is very dear and special to me." 

"Monica has told me a little about that, Mrs. Velasquez," Skinner replied gently. "And you must know that she is special to me, too." 

"Yes, I do know that," Lucia answered. "When you walked in, I could see that you and Monica had become much closer during the past few days. And while you were in the shop, she told me a little bit about what has happened this week. Including how happy you have made her." 

"Have I?" 

"Yes, you have," Lucia replied, stretching her hand out and touching his. "She also told me about your talk last night. Mr. Skinner ... Walter ... please understand. Emotionally, Monica is a creature of impulse. Very spontaneous and very free. So much so that I would worry about her, except that she also has a strong sense of caution. That has kept her from making too many impulsive decisions that she would regret. I know that Monica has strong feelings for you ... but that sense of caution is telling her not to rush things, to move slowly." 

"Mrs. Valesquez, what is it you are trying to tell me," Skinner asked, his brow suddenly furrowed in perplexity. 

"I am asking that you not forget about her when you leave here," Lucia answered. "You are good for Monica, and I suspect that she is good for you. Give her time ... and give yourself time, too. Stay in touch with each other and maybe ... who knows ... you might find your way to each other again ... and then you may both be ready to make it something that will last." 

Skinner understood what the older woman was trying to do and impulsively he covered her hand with his own. "Lucia, I won't forget about her, that much I can promise you," he replied quietly. "I'm not sure what will happen between us, whether this relationship will grow ... but I do know that I care too much about Monica to just forget about her. I may not be so in love with her that I'm ready to drop everything for her, or she for me ... but she is the best thing to come into my life in a long time. And I'm not going let her slip away that easily," he paused and saw the concerned look in the older woman's eyes disappear at his words. "Does that set your mind at rest, Mrs. Valesquez?" 

Lucia gave him a brilliant smile, "Yes, absolutely it does, Mr. Skinner," she said happily. "You will see that I am right. I have a sense about these things ... and it tells me that you and Monica will come together again. Maybe not next week or next month ... but it will happen." Suddenly, she caught sight of something over Skinner's shoulder. "And there she is now, Mr. Skinner. It looks like she has finished at the store and waiting for you." 

**CHAPTER 23**

Skinner and Reyes were once again seated on the floor in the living room of the suite, watching the flames dance in the fireplace as the sipped the last of their wine, cozily content. 

The sun was already beginning its descent when they had returned to the Phoenician in the early part of the evening. "You want to go anyplace special tonight," Skinner had asked. 

Reyes shook her head, "Not really," she replied. "I think I'd rather just stay here tonight." 

"Sounds good to me," Skinner answered. "How about we take a quick swim before the sun goes down, after all of that time in the car?" 

"You're on!" 

They had changed into their swimsuits rapidly and raced quickly to the pool. They spent a happy half hour frolicking and splashing about until the sun sank so low that they were no longer warmed by its rays. "Oooh," Reyes squealed as she wrapped a towel around herself, "It's chilly when that sun goes down." 

"Let's head back to our room," Skinner suggested. "I'll build a fire and we can order something from room service." 

Back in the suite, Reyes stepped into the shower while Skinner lit the fire in the hearth. When Reyes re-emerged, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with her hair fluffed, she joined him in front of the fire. "Warming up," he asked. 

"Hmmm ... I'm getting there," she replied as she snuggled next to him, putting her arms around his waist. "That fire feels good ... and you feel even better!" 

Skinner placed his arm around her and pulled her closer. "You getting hungry?" he asked. "What are you in the mood for tonight?" 

"Nothing really big or fancy," Reyes replied. "You know, they make up those picnic trays ... assorted meats, cheeses, fruit and bread ... why don't we get that? Then we can just nibble when we feel like it tonight." 

So Skinner ordered the tray, which now sat in the middle of the coffee table, and a bottle of merlot. And now, having satisfied their hunger, they relaxed in front of the fire, side by side, Skinner's arm around Reyes shoulders and her head resting against his chest. "Kind of a tame way for us to spend the last night of our vacation," Skinner commented. 

Reyes tilted her head to look up at him, and a mischievous little smile crossed her face. "Oh, I don't know about that," she mused. "The night is still young, you know!" 

"That's not what I meant, Monica," he admonished. "It's just ... well ... a lot of people would want to go out and party or do the nightclub scene on their last night. And here we are sitting on the floor of our hotel room." 

"It's what I wanted to do," Reyes replied, "And what you wanted to, right Walter? I mean, we can do the nightclub thing when we get home ... but this is the last chance we've got to be together like this." 

"That's very true," Skinner replied, pulling Reyes closer. "It's strange ... when I planned this trip, I never dreamed it would turn out like this." 

"I know what you mean," Reyes agreed. "I thought I'd be spending my time on my own, doing some sightseeing and shopping, maybe a day at the spa." 

"And I figured I'd spend most of my days on the golf course," Skinner mused. "Maybe see the Grand Canyon. How could I know ..." 

"Know what," Reyes continued when he broke off. 

"How could I know that I'd find someone here who would give me the best vacation of my life," Skinner continued. "You have, Monica. I know I'm always going to remember this trip ... because of you." 

"That is so sweet, Walter," Reyes replied. "I feel exactly the same way. Which makes me feel guilty about what I was feeling when I first saw you in the dining room the other night." 

"Guilty ... what about?" Skinner asked. 

Reyes raised herself slightly so that she was kneeling instead of sitting and turned to face him, looking for all the world like a guilty schoolgirl, "Well, when I first saw you there, looking so big and imposing and ... well ...Assistant Director-ish in that suit of yours I thought, Aw Hell! I can't get away from work even on vacation! I mean, the last person I wanted to see was someone from the FBI ... especially an assistant director that I knew!" 

Skinner fought to hold back a smile and instead put an expression of hurt on his face, "I don't believe I'm hearing this," he told her, trying hard to sound severe. "You were upset to see me that night." 

The look of remorse and consternation on Reyes' face told him that he had succeeded, "Oh, please Walter don't look so hurt," she exclaimed. "It was only because I was wanting to get away and there you were looking so official. I swear that once we started talking I was glad you were there ... really ... I ..." 

Reyes broke off as she noticed that the corners of Skinner's mouth were twitching and his eyes twinkled with amusement. "Oh ...you DEVIL!" she exclaimed. "You weren't upset with me at all ... just leading me on." 

Skinner began to laugh, "I'm sorry, I couldn't resist, Monica!" 

Reyes launched herself at him, pummeling him with her fists, "You got me all worked up for nothing," she screeched. "Oooh, you play dirty, Walter Skinner!" 

Skinner caught her by the waist and deftly flipped her over on the floor until she was lying on her back. "Oh, so you want to play rough, do you Monica?" he teased and he began to tickle her. She was screeching again, howling with laughter as he tickled, finding all of her most sensitive spots, "So how's that Monica?" he queried. 

"Walter ... no I ...ohmigod," she squealed. "I can't stand this ... I'm ticklish .... Stop!" 

He continued to tickle her ruthlessly until his instincts told her that she couldn't take anymore. Then he stopped abruptly, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her in a kiss that was hard, brutal and long. He could feel her panting against him, still breathless from his tickling attack. She moved her hands in an attempt to push him away. Skinner pulled back then, looking down into her face. 

Reyes was gasping, "Jesus, give a girl a chance to breathe, okay?" 

"Okay," Skinner replied, watching her. 

Reyes took several gulps of air. Then, as her breathing became more regular, she reached for Skinner and drew him back down to her, "Now come on back here, big man," she purred in a low, throaty voice. "Time to finish what you've started." 

* * *

The golden sunshine streamed down upon Skinner and Reyes as they sipped coffee at the terrace table just off the lobby. Skinner was dressed in his familiar dark blue suit, perfectly groomed and shaved, ready at least in his outward appearance, for his return to the real, workaday world, while Reyes was dressed again in jeans and t-shirt, her hair loose about her shoulders. 

"Guess it's almost that time," Skinner said as he consulted his watch. 

"We still have a few minutes," Reyes told him, laying her hand on his wrist. 

Skinner laid his hand over hers. "Yes, we do," he replied. "And before I leave, there's something I want to give you." 

He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small, white box, "I'm sorry, I didn't have a chance to get it gift-wrapped," he said apologetically. 

"Oh, who needs gift wrap," Reyes said as she reached for the box. "It just gets tossed in the trash anyway." She lifted the lid from the box and Skinner saw her eyes widen and her lips form a soundless "O" as she reached into the box and withdrew a superbly crafted bracelet of Black Hills gold set with opals ... one of the treasures that had been in the jewelry case at Lucia's Trading Post. "Oh, Walter," she breathed. "It's absolutely beautiful." 

Skinner took the bracelet from Reyes' suddenly trembling hands, "Hold out your wrist," he instructed. She did so and he fastened the bracelet around the slender limb, admiring how well it suited her. "Now, I think that looks wonderful on you," he told her. 

"I love it," Reyes whispered, "But Walter, you didn't have to do this ..." 

"Yes I did, Monica," Skinner replied, holding her hand in his. "I wanted to give you something to let you know how special this time with you has been for me. And to let you know how special you are to me. I will never forget it ... or you." 

Reyes smiled happily as her fingers returned his warm clasp. "You didn't have to give me anything," she said softly. "And I'll never forget this vacation or you, either. You are very dear to me, Walter, and you'll always have a special place in my heart." 

Skinner squeezed her hand, then rose from the table. "I think it's time now," he said gently. "I'd better get going." 

Reyes nodded and rose from her seat. Together, they walked back into the hotel and through the lobby to the valet parking area, where Skinner's Jeep waited, his luggage already loaded. Skinner turned to Reyes, "I guess this is it." 

Reyes nodded and pressed close to him, her arms around his neck. "I know. Walter, it's been the most wonderful vacation of my life." 

Skinner cupped her face with his hands, staring at it, imprinting every line, every feature, every pore of her skin onto his memory, "I will never forget this week, or you, Monica," he said in a voice husky with emotion. "Whatever happens in the future, I'll always remember what you did for me and what we shared." 

Reyes pulled his head towards hers and their lips met in a final kiss, long and sweet and tender. Skinner held her tightly, not wanting to let her go. It remained for her to break the contact between them, which she did, pushing him back slightly and looking up at him with a sad smile. "You'd better get going," she murmured as she stepped back. "You're going to miss your plane." 

Skinner climbed into the Jeep and turned the ignition. As the motor started, he looked over at Reyes. She was smiling brightly and lifted her hand in a farewell wave. He nodded and gently pressed the accelerator, taking the vehicle around the hotel's circular entrance. Just before he turned the final bend in the circle, he glanced back for one last look at Monica Reyes. He thought he saw her lips moving, but he couldn't tell what words she was forming. His last sight of her was seeing her rub her hands across her eyes in the unconscious gesture a child uses to wipe away her tears. "Goodbye, Monica," he whispered as he turned onto the main road and towards the freeway. 

**EPILOGUE**

"Welcome back, sir!" 

Skinner looked up from his paperwork to see Agents Doggett and Scully standing in his doorway. "Thank you, Agents, come on in." 

The pair entered the office and he gestured towards the two chairs in front of his desk. As they seated themselves, Scully pointed at his wrist, "That's a beautiful watchband, sir. I don't think I've seen it before." 

"No you haven't, Agent Scully," Skinner told her. "I bought it at an Indian reservation in Arizona." 

"Oh, you went to one of those reservations," Doggett queried. "I've heard about them but never visited. Remember Monica ... Agent Reyes, I mean ... the agent who helped us in Montana? Well she used to talk about those places. There's one she visits all the time." 

"Yes, I remember Agent Reyes," Skinner murmured. 

"I thought she worked out of New Orleans," Scully commented. 

"Yeah, but she knows people in Phoenix so she visits there a lot," Doggett replied. "It would have been a hell of a thing if you'd been there at the same time, sir." 

Skinner smiled faintly, "Yes, it would have been quite a coincidence, Agent Doggett." 

"If I may say so, you look very rested, sir," Scully observed. "Arizona must have agreed with you." 

"Yes, yes it did," Skinner replied, with a faint smile. "I would highly recommend the Phoenician Resort to anybody. And how are you doing, Agent Scully?" 

"I'm better, sir," Scully answered. "Agent Doggett has kept an eye on me here at work and Mom's looking out for me at home. I'm ... adjusting." 

"Good," Skinner nodded approvingly. "Now, why don't you fill me in on what you two are working on." 

As he listened to John Doggett begin his case summary, he heard a slight "beep" from his computer. He looked and saw a new message in his incoming mail: 

Name of Sender: Monica Reyes. 

Subject: Thinking of You ... 

**THE END**   
  


#### If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Harrahgirl


End file.
